Keigo's Awesome Seaside Vacation
by lpdrunknmunky
Summary: Another school break rolls around and Keigo is determined to make everyone enjoy it at the beach with him. Although he didn't exactly have the elicit union of a couple of argumentative teenagers in mind.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Keigo's Awesome Seaside Vacation  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Complete  
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo &amp; Ishida Uryuu  
Warnings: UST, language, underage drinking, m/m sex, a poorly-written action scene  
Summary: Another school break rolls around and Keigo is determined to make everyone enjoy it at the beach with him. Although he didn't exactly have the elicit union of a couple of argumentative teenagers in mind.  
AN: Just a little sand and surf and angsty romance. I say 'little' but this thing somehow turned into a wordy beast! Soundtrack for this story is 'The Island Pt I: Dawn' and 'The Island Pt II: Dusk', both by Pendulum.

* * *

"Ichiiiigoooo~" bellows Keigo from across the room. "Good morning!"

Ichigo sits quietly at his desk reading before homeroom begins, as usual, when Keigo decides to hurl himself excitedly in his general direction. With a practiced one-handed swipe, he intercepts the lunge mid-air without looking away from his novel. He doesn't feel guilty when Keigo whines about being knocked into a by-standing classmate because this happens at least once a week. His classmates should know by now to get out of Keigo's deflection-radius when he gets excited. Ichigo also doesn't bother listening to the spiel he launches into once he recovers until he hears the words _beach party_.

"Why would I ever go to one of your parties again," Ichigo demands, finally sparing the man a glance, "When the last one was so awful?"

"It was not _awful_!"

"It kind of was," Mizuiro agrees, walking up to join their chat with Chad following. "Since we ran out of food, got lost in the woods, and then we were chased by a pack of skunks."

"Mm," Chad confirms.

"Shut up both of you!" he shrieks with pointing fingers. "None of that was my fault. Besides, this time will be different because it's at my grandparent's beach house—which is stocked with all kinds of food—and it will be _epic_! So you should all come."

"I'll go if Tatsuki-chan can go!" Inoue interjects, peering around Chad's massive form. "If it's not one of those no-girls-allowed kinds of parties?"

"Absolutely, you can both come," Keigo beams, pumping his fist into the air. "More the merrier!"

"I'll go if 'Hime-chan is going," says Chizuru.

"I'll go if Sado-kun goes," Mizuiro concedes, sensing the trend.

"Ichigo?" Chad succinctly requests.

At this point, Ichigo is the last link in a long chain of keyed-up teenagers gearing up to party at the beach together over one of their very last breaks as high school students. The last thing he wants is to waste it on another of Keigo's infamously bad parties and he doesn't understand what the rest of them are thinking. They should know better. Plus, with Rukia and Renji currently on assignment in Soul Society, it's pretty much up to him to make sure any non-human threats get vanquished before they cause problems in Karakura. Yet, since he can't exactly explain all of this without feeling like a wet blanket, Ichigo hesitates to decline. Instead, he thinks of Ishida. If there's one person in this entire class who will never take part in any of Keigo's social gatherings, it's that guy.

"I'll go if Ishida goes."

As one, the collective group stares at Ichigo for a long moment. It occurs to him then, what the implication of this condition means. Everyone else had to make sure their closest friend would be along for the ride, and then Ichigo picks the one person in the entire school who he has consistently been on 'rival' terms with since they met.

"What!? Why Ishida? That is the very last person you want to invite to a beach party, Ichigo!" he doesn't hesitate to whine, seeing his elaborate plans dissolving before his eyes. Keigo may be the only one vocalizing it, but he can sense these thoughts from the rest of his friends, too. "Who would want to hang out with that weirdo, pale, glasses-glaring freak—"

"Take it or leave it."

Keigo closes his mouth and nods stoically. Then he straightens into a grim stance typically reserved for the firing squad and marches right over to the man on the other side of the classroom. Everyone watches in tense silence as Ishida looks up from his book and regards Keigo levelly. A handful of strained seconds later, several people flinch at his curt answer, reverberating across the room like ominous thunder.

"I refuse."

Ichigo bites back a smirk as Keigo launches into a screechy, offended diatribe. There's no way he'll win Ishida over; Ichigo is in the clear! He's so confident of his maneuver that he tunes everyone out and goes back to reading his novel. But Keigo is not easily dissuaded. He continues to harangue, plead, and barter with Ishida for nearly five minutes.

Eventually, Ichigo hears a tell-tale sigh and Ishida snaps, "Fine."

He whips his head around to regard the young Quincy in disbelief. Did he just hear what he thought he did? Keigo comes trotting back over with an ear-splitting grin that makes Ichigo cringe. He gives everyone a double thumbs-up and a chorus of cheering covers Ichigo's low curse. Though it sucks that he has to go, Ichigo is immensely curious at what Keigo had to offer to get that elusive consent. Opening his mouth to ask, Ichigo is interrupted by their teacher entering the room to begin class.

After lunch, Ichigo waits until everyone else has left and headed back to class, packing his things very slowly. Japan's slowest eater, Ishida, is still nibbling the last of his melon bread when Ichigo walks over to him. He doesn't acknowledge Ichigo even when his name is called. On cue, his hackles instinctively raise at this treatment. But he knows ignoring people is one of Ishida's favorite hobbies, so he shrugs it off in favor of sating his curiosity.

"Hey, why did you agree to go to the beach party?"

"Because you didn't want me to," Ishida levelly shares as he noisily crumples his food packaging into a tight ball. He folds the wad into his pants pocket as he stands and faces Ichigo only long enough to finish his explanation. "I deduced that the only reason Asano would ever invite me to one of his ghastly soirees is if you asked him to do so. The only way you would ever ask him to do so is if you secretly wished to abstain without upsetting your friends. Since the easiest way to escape that eventuality would be to make your participation contingent upon mine, you hinged your freedom upon my refusal. A clever—if cowardly—solution, Kurosaki, I admit. Though you failed to take into account my perpetual hatred for you and my pervading desire to see you suffer at any possible opportunity. Thus, my acceptance."

While Ichigo is still reeling from that dastardly monologue, Ishida slips past him and strides down the stairs. He clenches his teeth and a fist as he reigns in his irritation. It's true he and Ishida have never seen eye-to-eye on just about anything outside of fighting for Karakura but it seems like Ishida has been steadily becoming more malevolent towards him all year. Though mostly in subtle, overlookable ways. A series of passive-aggressive and occasionally outright spiteful comments have been building since the beginning of their final year. Teasing and sarcasm were common between them, as any student here could attest, but this is different. He has wondered about it but Ichigo is not exactly the type to play peacemaker where ignoring the problem will still work.

Now he isn't so sure it will. It used to be that when Ishida said he hated him, it was just an empty remark, a front he liked to put up for the sake of his pride. The word has acquired a bit more solidity lately. As have the dark looks Ishida tends to launch at him like devious arrows.

Ichigo spends the rest of the day taking turns glaring at Ishida and Keigo for putting him into a foul mood. He debates using his argument with Ishida as an excuse to bail out of the trip, but Ishida's dig about him being cowardly has him bristling. No, better he go along and make sure Ishida has a horrible time and regrets messing with Ichigo like this. Yeah, Ishida can shove his self-righteous indignation right up his ass! The thought makes him smile. As if sensing his shift in mood, Ishida glances back at him then and scowls.

* * *

Bags packed the night before, Ichigo drags them out to Keigo's mom's van waiting outside of his house. He takes a moment to hug his sisters goodbye and promise to be back in one piece in a week. Then he dodges his dad's lunge and greets his waiting friends. He is the last stop and the only seat remaining is beside Ishida and Chizuru in the very back. Of course Ishida frowns and mutters about being squished in the middle, inducing a spontaneous rush of yesterday's annoyance in Ichigo's previously serene state of mind. Already he begins plotting things he can do to piss the archer off.

Then he notices he's already being bugged by Chizuru. She is smirking slyly and tracing a hand up his leg from the knee. For his part, Ishida is doing his best to ignore her. He watches Ishida's eye twitch behind his glasses as her fingers make contact with his inseam. They keep going. Snapping his novel shut, Ishida finally brushes her hand away.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from touching me," he tells her in an even tone without looking at her.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because your advances are unfounded and pointless."

"Huh?"

"He means he's not interested and he knows you aren't either," Ichigo translates, used to Ishida's weird speech patterns. "Why are you hitting on him anyway? I thought you were in love with Inoue."

"I'm not hitting on him," Chizuru replies, continuing her torture. "I'm just bored. If I was hitting on him, I'd do this!"

She zips out a hand and goes straight for Ishida's crotch, but his reflexes snatch the hand out of the air before she can do any damage.

"Kurosaki, trade me seats."

Ichigo thinks that over. He has a better idea.

"Hey, Chizuru, did you know that Ishida's really ticklish?"

Grinning at the way Ishida's head snaps around in shock, Ichigo gleefully watches as a fierce look creeps into Chizuru's eyes.

"Reeeeeally?"

"Now, wait a second," Ishida sternly warns, raising hands to guard against her impending attack. "Kurosaki is lying. I am not the least bit ticklish."

"No?"

"No. How would he know, anyway?"

"Hey, yeah," she pauses in her advance to say. "Ichigo, how _would _you know?"

At this point, he can see his plan backfiring. The only way he can think to get himself out of this is to talk, fast. So he says the first thing that pops into his head.

"Because I, uh…" Tatsuki and Inoue tune into the discussion from the seat in front of them. Ichigo swallows and blurts, "Because I've tickled him before, obviously!"

Four pairs of eyes lock onto him and Ichigo feels his face heat.

"Why would you tickle Ishida-kun?" Inoue innocently voices in blatant confusion. "Did he ask you to?"

"Yeah!"

"Absolutely not!" Ishida barks at the same time.

"Well, which is it?" Tatsuki demands, eyeing the both of them. If anyone has a fully-functional bullshit-sniffer, it's Tatsuki.

"He did. If I'm lying, then this won't work."

With a leap of faith, Ichigo twists in his seat and attacks while Ishida's guard is down. He goes for the sensitive sides first, dodging Ishida's sloppy blocking. The man gasps once, shakes beneath his fingers, and then releases a trilling torrent of strained chuckles that shocks the hell out of everyone in the vehicle. Everyone simultaneously realizes that they've never heard Ishida actually laugh before. It's a pleasant sound.

Encouraged by this success, Ichigo migrates to more ticklish areas like armpits and the back of his neck. Soon all three girls are giggling with him. Ishida is rendered effectively helpless and gives up trying to resist after a minute. Smiling, Ichigo continues until Ishida becomes too breathless to laugh properly. His eyes are shut, lashes shady slashes across his cheekbones, and his bright teeth show in a giddy curl of flushed lips. Ishida's hair is splayed across his face in a messy wash from shaking it back and forth. Ichigo lets up then and marvels at the rare sight of Ishida so open and _normal_.

Then it all comes crashing down. Ishida regains his breath, sobers up, and turns the _evilest_ glare on Ichigo. Luckily, the girls are too busy wiping amused tears from their eyes to see it before it's gone. But Ichigo saw it, clear as day. A promise for retribution for this indiscretion. He has seen some scary shit in his time, but Ishida's cold blue stare is about as terrifying as foreboding gets.

He clears his throat and as a sense of normalcy returns to the group. Tatsuki and Inoue go back to their conversation with Chad and Chizuru starts texting. Ishida merely opens his book and ignores them all for the rest of the ride. For his part, Ichigo pretends to read while trying not to picture how Ishida will get back at him later.

* * *

"Heeeere we aaaare," Keigo sing-songs as they pull up to a two-story house bordered by trees on one side, sand on the other. They pile out of the van and take turns grabbing their bags and walking over to ogle the ocean view. They follow Keigo into the house and tune out his practiced blurb about his grandparents' lovely home in favor of viewing it for themselves. Inoue darts around to examine an old teapot, then to a mounted moose-head, then to a pair of crossed snow-shoes on the wall. Tatsuki tests the sturdiness of a chair before sinking into it. Chad nods at the fireplace in approval. Mizuiro checks the kitchen's stock and makes a grocery list on his phone. Chizuru glomps Inoue and joins in her excitement. Ishida wanders upstairs by himself.

After a few minutes, they begin claiming roommates. Tatsuki grabs Inoue and drags her upstairs before Chizuru can get her claws on the oblivious redhead. Mizuiro caves to Keigo's begging and agrees to share a room. Before he knows what happened, Ichigo is witnessing the unlikely union of Chad and Chizuru.

"Wait," Ichigo calls to Chad before they disappear down the hall. "Why are you rooming with Chizuru?"

"You saw how angry Ishida got sitting beside her in the car," he shrugs a sleeveless shoulder. "He'd be miserable if he had to room with her all week."

"But…"

Ichigo doesn't mention the fact that Ishida probably hates him more than her at the moment. That he'd probably even _pay_ Chad to room with him instead and—for that matter, why wouldn't Chad just room with Ishida? Unless he knows that Ichigo would be miserable with that ADHD psycho, too.

Feeling a jolt of affection for the taller man, Ichigo grabs his bag and finds the room with an agitated Quincy lurking inside it. He is lying on a twin bed and staring up at the oscillating ceiling fan when Ichigo walks in. His hands rest folded over the starched white shirt covering his belly. He takes one look at Ichigo standing in the door frame and lets out a tired sigh.

"Figures."

"That's what you get for being an anti-social dork instead of asking Chad to room with you."

"This weekend will go by much faster if you and I refrain from speaking, Kurosaki," he mutters. "Perhaps you might even enjoy your holiday."

"How can I enjoy anything when one of my friends won't stop glaring at me behind my back?"

"Which friend would that be?"

Again, his denial of being friends is clear. He has been doing this a lot lately, too. And Ichigo thought they had gotten past that whole 'frienemies' thing long ago. With a flippant snort, Ichigo tosses his bag onto the opposite bed and begins unpacking. Several tense minutes pass before either of them speaks. Ichigo's anger only worsens with the silence until he feels like forcing something.

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

"For what? Deigning to keep silent for more than a handful of seconds?"

"For rooming with you instead of letting Chizuru have you," he grits against the insult.

"We both know that was Sado-kun's kindness. I intend to thank him later," Ishida calmly states. He sits up and swings his legs off the bed to face Ichigo now, probably gearing up for another fight. "Besides, I would prefer Honshou's company to yours any day."

"Yeah? Then why don't you go room with her instead?"

"I'm already unpacked."

"Well, maybe I'll trade with her, then."

"By all means."

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe you should," Ishida says as he stands and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yeah?" Ichigo challenges, also standing and returning the bitter stare. "I don't feel like it."

Despite feeling childish for this little spat, Ichigo holds his ground. They face-off until Keigo appears in the doorway to tell them they're about to start cooking dinner. Then Ichigo huffs and shakes it off. Let Ishida act like a spoiled brat if he wants to. It's none of his concern. He's not going to waste his vacation arguing with a jerk like him anyway.

As soon as Keigo is done ogling them in confusion and leaves, Ishida strips off his shirt and Ichigo is momentarily awestruck at the sight of his five-branched scar. Since they've never had gym together, Ichigo hasn't had the chance to see Ishida shirtless since that time he lost most of it in battle. It's faded enough to be only a subtle variation in skin tone though still visible. Not for the first time, it makes him think of Ishida's strained relationship with his father. Or what little he knows about it, anyway.

He is pulled from his musings when Ishida proceeds to go straight for his belt buckle.

"Whoa!" Ichigo cries as he jerks forward to shut the door. "What are you doing, Ishida?"

"Going swimming," he says at the floor, dropping his pants to reveal teal swim-trunks. "What did you think I was doing, Kurosaki? And why did you shut the door?"

"Uh…"

This time the look they share is more awkward than malicious. Ichigo doesn't know why his instinctive response to Ishida stripping in front of him was to close the door. So he doesn't say anything. Ishida shrugs it off and grabs his beach towel.

"Move."

"Why are you swimming? Keigo said the food's almost ready."

"None of your business, Kurosaki. Now get out of my way before I move you."

He can feel a simmering rage rolling off Ishida and it makes him want to do whatever he says, but it also makes him want to pester the man even more. The reason he's running off instead of eating with everyone must be to get away from Ichigo, which is just insulting. Plus, something about the way he would just whip off his clothes without warning like that has Ichigo strangely intrigued by this weird mood Ishida has fallen into. It's kind of like watching a train wreck in gruesome progress.

"Maybe I want to go for a swim, too."

In response to this, Ishida rolls his eyes and gives Ichigo a hearty shove to his left shoulder before exiting the room. He lets himself be pushed but only because he needs to grab his swimsuit before he can follow him anyway. Changing swiftly, Ichigo rushes downstairs and out the back door with a quick wave to his friends on the way.

Outside, the sky is darkening not quite with dusk but with a broad approaching storm. Black rides the horizon, swooping slowly towards them. A chill breeze teases the water and turns it choppy before them. He catches up to Ishida right before the other man reaches the shoreline. He seems intent on ignoring Ichigo now that he's made it clear he intends to tag along just to bother him. Ishida drops his towel, sets down his glasses, and kicks off his sandals a few meters from the water before wading out into the lapping froth. Ichigo follows.

"Come to play lifeguard, Kurosaki?"

"Well, somebody should be there to save your skinny ass when you run out of steam and sink like a rock."

They dive at the same time, turning it into a competition without needing to voice it. Part of him knows this is dangerous. Rain will begin pattering down any moment now. As the winds become stronger, the waves will grow and threaten their little aquatic jaunt.

Despite the risk, they swim for minutes on end. He would never admit it, but Ishida is the faster swimmer, thought not by much. No sounds but the rasp of their labored breathing under the rush of roiling water and wind reach their awareness. Ichigo watches Ishida's pale form cutting through the water like a fish in its natural habitat. The smooth motion of his arms twisting in the sea is momentarily distracting.

They slow, tiring, and Ichigo comes to a stop seconds before Ishida does the same. They tread water and catch their breath. Ichigo looks back towards the shore and can barely make out a bleary line with a mere dot representing the house. A wave crashes over them unexpectedly, causing them to splutter out acrid saltwater. A chill steals over them as the sun is fully eclipsed by encroaching clouds. Ichigo opens his mouth to suggest they return to shore when Ishida is suddenly dragged underwater with a startled shout.

"Ishida! What—"

Then he senses it, belatedly. A Hollow has joined them.

He makes a grab for his Substitute's badge before he remembers it's in his pants…in their bedroom. He couldn't use it even if he had it, unless he wanted to lose his body to the sea bed. Dread washes over him as he realizes he's _helpless_. Worse, he can do nothing to help Ishida. A flash of blue shoots out of the water a few feet from him and Ichigo tries to look below the surface. Without the sun's piercing rays, he can't see much in the murk. The outline of Ishida's struggling form resolves just as another swoops in near it.

Long and sinewy with a flared head like a shark, the Hollow is plated with interlocking armor and a serrated set of fins running down its spine to its flared tail. The beast jerks aside to dodge another attack and Ichigo realizes Ishida has already been underwater for over a minute. His heart kicks into overdrive as he fights back a vicious surge of panic. Another wave slaps over him as he tries to think of what to do. If he goes for the shore to yell for help, Ishida would be dead by the time he could get Chad or Inoue out here. Conversely, if he tries to grab the Hollow his delicate human body would be ripped to shreds, most likely attracting normal sharks with the blood flow. But he can't just do nothing!

He does the next best thing and dives down, swimming to Ishida's side. Twin rows of menacing fangs sweep out of the darkness and Ishida shoves him out of the way to loose a volley at the thing. Some of them hit and the creature's pained screech reverberates through the water regardless of the sonic physics. On its retreat, Ichigo grabs Ishida's slim wrist and drags him to the surface. They gasp in air while they can, keeping an eye on the churning drink around them. Fat drops of rain splatter onto their heads as they shout at each other over the storm.

"Kurosaki, swim back to shore!"

"Like hell I'm leaving you," he incredulously declines.

"You can't do anything like this," Ishida argues, pushing him in the direction of the shore. "Get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving you, Ishida!"

Opening his mouth to argue, Ishida is cut off by the Hollow's characteristic ululation cutting through the accompanying howl of furious wind and the crash of rabid ocean. The issue with fighting a shark-Hollow underwater is that Ishida can't tread water and shoot his bow at the same time. If it wasn't so disorienting being flung around like this, he could probably muster the concentration to stand on spirit particles. As it is, every ounce of focus is monopolized by keeping up with the Hollow's lightning-fast movements. So Ichigo grabs onto his waist for stability and isn't surprised when Ishida goes with it. The monster rushes up from below but Ishida is ready for him this time. He blinks salt and rain from his eyes and takes careful aim.

He misses.

The Hollow is barely grazed but it is enough to deter him for a few precious seconds. Ichigo marvels at the fact that Ishida is aiming so poorly. Even though they are being buffeted around and showered by cold, crushing water, Ishida _never_ misses. Then he looks at Ishida and realizes that he isn't wearing his glasses. Of course! Ishida is near-sighted as a cross-eyed Siamese cat. Plus, it can't be easy to keep track of its spiritual energy when everything is constantly shifting so drastically. Still, he's fighting in these conditions despite the handicap so that they won't die out here.

Now that he knows, it's an easy enough task to shout instructions the next time the Hollow makes a swipe at them.

"Left twelve degrees!" he shouts.

Ishida immediately follows instruction and shoots true. But the Hollow jerks to the side and gets winged instead. Enraged, it abandons strategy and goes straight for Ishida's outstretched arm. Ichigo pulls it in just as jaws snap shut over the vacated spot. With an aggressive growl, Ishida bends his left elbow sharply and points his right hand straight down the thing's nose. His arrow glows vivid and potent before he releases it.

Sky blue flares like a pulsing star and the Hollow is rent in two at last. With a final, plaintive squeal it disintegrates into the fluttering waves. Ishida gasps from the strain, trembling against Ichigo where they are still connected. Wordlessly, he tugs the smaller man back towards land. It takes everything they have to cross the distance fatigued and fighting the raging storm. Thunder cracks deafeningly above them as they finally crawl onto solid ground. Ichigo helps haul Ishida further from the threatening fluid.

They take a moment to cough and heave as the adrenaline wears off and their bodies reprimand them with rebukes of pain and soreness. Another strike of lightning overhead reminds them they are still in danger. How lame would it be to kill the Hollow and then die from a stray lightning strike?

Ichigo pushes slowly to his feet and sees Ishida doing the same. He grabs his glasses but leaves the towel and shoes where they lie. They burst into the kitchen panting like marathon runners and shedding sopping sand as they go. Ishida slams the door behind them and leans against it with his head back and his eyes closed. Ichigo grabs a counter to steady him and stares at Ishida for completely different reasons than earlier.

Maybe it's the near-death experience, but something about Ishida seems…blindingly stunning. His drenched black hair is strewn sticky and dripping all over the place. His throat works as he swallows between quick breaths, Adam's apple bobbing along its column. The planes of his torso contort with the effort of steadying his respiration and streams of water run in the crevices between defined musculature. Dark eyes open and focus on Ichigo, catching him in this strange moment of realization.

He feels like he should say something. _Anything_ to acknowledge what just happened between them in spite of their childish bickering. If what they have isn't friendship at the very least, then what else could it be? But Mizuiro sidles into the kitchen and balks when he sees them.

"Wow. What happened to you guys?"

"Nothing," Ishida says, tossing Ichigo a warning glance. "We went for a swim but the water got rough."

"I'll say," Keigo jumps in. "Looks like you just went five rounds in a blender!"

"We're fine," Ichigo assures, following Ishida's lead. "Starving. There any grub left?"

"Uh, yeah, man. Plenty."

* * *

Ichigo scarfs down his meal before heading back to their room for a shower. Ishida has eschewed food for cleanliness and lies freshly-showered, fully-clothed in pajamas, and bundled up in his bed. But his eyes are wide open and following the lazy fan above him. Ichigo takes a moment to watch him.

"I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're anorexic," he finally huffs. "Want me to bring you some leftovers, Mary Kate?"

"Fuck off."

Ichigo shrugs and makes a beeline for the shower. He wants this drying crust of sand and salt off his skin as soon as possible now that his belly is full. By the time he's done, Ishida is tucked into bed facing the wall and breathing slowly. His glasses are perched on the nightstand and Ichigo feels a ridiculous urge to swipe them. Luckily, he manages to resist.

He's debating sleep when he hears a quiet knock on the door. Inoue, clad in pink daisy-dotted pajamas turns a concerned expression towards Ishida before gesturing down the hall. Ichigo nods and follows her to an alcove near a wide bay window adjacent to the stairs. They take a moment to admire the moonlit seascape before turning towards each other.

"What's up?"

"Oh, nothing important," she exclaims, hurriedly waving her hands back and forth. "It's nothing serious at all! Just…I was wondering about you and Ishida-kun. You guys seem to be fighting a lot lately."

Sighing, Ichigo doesn't bother playing dumb this time. He imagines it has to be pretty obvious to everyone that they're getting along worse than they have in a long time. Maybe ever. Of course Inoue would be the one to ask about it and try to play pacifist when everyone else thinks it's funny. Yet, he doesn't think there is anything she could do to smooth things over between them, especially when he doesn't even understand why they're so rough.

"Yeah, I guess we are."

"Why?"

"I don't really know," he shrugs and turns his head in exasperation. "Sometimes he just feels like being a dick. You know how he is."

Inoue's innocent empathy hasn't changed since she was five. The way that she looks at him now reminds him of the various times she has put her whole heart into helping her friends. It irritates him that Ishida's arrogance would result in her sadness. Her expression turns thoughtful at his words and she watches the waves as she ponders.

"I think he always has a reason." Solemn brown eyes meet his in sincerity. "When Ishida-kun feels sad or upset, he won't just say that, you know? He doesn't want anyone to see his pain, so he acts rude and pushes them away."

"But why would he only be rude to _me_?"

"Maybe you're…causing his pain in some way?" she tries, scrunching up her nose in unpleasant contemplation. "Do you remember saying or doing anything that might make him mad?"

Ichigo thinks about it for a moment. _Really_ thinks. But as far as he can remember, everything's been normal. School with a side of late-night Hollow fights. Sure there have been lots of times they've argued or fought, but those were mostly initiated by Ishida. There is no single instance that stands out above anything else and he says as much.

"I mean there was this time a few months ago when he asked me to go to some kind of dumb event and I said I was busy. He seemed kind of annoyed, but…"

He trails off, having nothing else to add. Inoue straightens and gets that light bulb-lookbut doesn't say anything at first. Truth is Ichigo can't even remember what the event was, much less whether it was important to Ishida or not. Besides, it was so long ago. There's no way Ishida is still pissed. Right?

"How did he ask—what did he say, exactly?"

"I don't know, Inoue," he huffs, flustered at the situation in general. "It was a while ago."

"Did he say something like, 'Come with me to this,'" she imitates Ishida with a stern, haughty expression, "Or more like, 'If you're available would you join me," she switches into a meeker but still proud countenance. Seeing her adjust imaginary glasses and let her hair fall across her face triggers a memory.

"Yeah! The second one," Ichigo confirms, nodding. "He was acting kind of twitchy and weird—weirder than usual."

"Hmm…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing!" Inoue repeats, once again with wide eyes and waving arms. "Nothing. Just a thought but I'm sure it doesn't mean anything, haha! I think I will try talking to Ishida-kun tomorrow afternoon when we go hiking. Thank you for telling me, Kurosaki-kun. Good night!"

Without waiting for his response, she zips off in the other direction and slams the door to her and Tatsuki's room. Ichigo shakes his head and shrugs. That's Inoue for you.

* * *

The next morning brings a revival of all the excited tumult last night's storm dampened. Nature has recovered from the onslaught with the poise that only she can summon. Red-gold dawn evaporates any lingering clouds and colors the pallid landscape in great bands of green, blue, and yellow. Seagulls call over the calm waves' whispers. Buoy bells ding and boats float by in a leisurely glide.

By the time Ichigo is dressed and walking into the dining room for breakfast, his friends are already stuffing their faces and chatting amiably. Even Chad is chuckling aloud at some joke Tatsuki just told.

"Good morning, Ichigo!" Keigo greets with a wide-arcing wave. "Help yourself to delicious eggs and toast, prepared by yours truly."

"They are actually pretty good," Tatsuki tells him, eliciting a high-five from the chef.

"Where's Ishida?" Chad asks.

"Hell if I know. Has he not come downstairs yet?" Several heads shake in the negative. Ichigo plops into a seat and resists the urge to scowl as he reaches for food. "Probably still brooding about how much he hates me."

"Why did you invite him if he hates you?"

Chizuru would be the one to ask the million-dollar question. Ichigo twitches but takes a bite of bread in favor of answering.

"Probably felt sorry for him," Keigo mutters. "Right, Ichigo?"

"It's not like he has anything else to do during break," Mizuiro agrees without malice. "I don't think I've ever seen him hang out with anyone outside of clubs before."

"Ishida-kun has friends!" Inoue pipes up in his defense.

"You guys don't count," Chizuru says, gesturing lazily at Inoue, Chad, and Ichigo with her fork. "Because none of you ever asked him to hang out with you, right? Aside from that one time Ichigo invited him to lunch."

"Which he only did because he wanted to know how Glasses got all those weird injuries!" Keigo slams his cup of orange juice down hard enough to slosh some of the sticky fluid onto the table. "And then he just kept eating with us for a while, like a pathetic loser."

Chizuru nods and Chad frowns. Ichigo is about to open his mouth and shut them all up once and for all. Pissed at Ishida he may be, but the guy doesn't deserve this kind of bad-mouthing. Even if some of it is sort of true. Despite his character flaws and idiosyncrasies, Ishida is a loyal and excellent fighter. That's all you really need in Ichigo's book. Everything else is politics.

Then he catches a flicker of movement from the living room; a flash of black hair and white shirt. Wordlessly, he pushes away from the table with a sudden screech that silences the group. They stare as he strides from the dining room and out the front door without a backward glance.

"Kurosaki-kun?" he hears Inoue weakly call.

He's sure they'll gossip about how he got mad at them for bitching about Ishida but he doesn't care. The idea of Ishida hearing all that from people he considers as friends for almost three years now—whether he admits it or not—doesn't sit well with Ichigo. It can't be a great feeling. Though he doesn't really know what he wants to say, Ichigo chases Ishida up the hill leading to the start of the hiking trail near the woods.

"Ishida, wait up!"

His call is ignored. Ichigo jogs to catch up before he loses sight of him in the dense vegetation. When he falls in step beside Ishida, he waits a few steps to see if he'll respond. Otherwise he's going to at least walk with Ishida to make sure he doesn't get lost alone out here; Ishida isn't carrying anything other than his khaki shorts, white short-sleeved button-up, and sandals.

"What do you want, Kurosaki?"

"I know you heard them in there," he dives right in, grateful Ishida bothered to speak at all. "You know they were just being jerks, right? They don't really feel that way about you."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually care what your friends think of me." His gaze stays steady on the path before him as he marches. Ishida is trying hard to project a calm, unaffected demeanor but Ichigo senses something deeper than that. "That includes you. So go on back to the cabin and feel free to call me a loser all you want."

"I would never call you a loser," he mumbles mostly to himself. Then to Ishida, "Come back with me and I'll make them apologize."

"Do I really need to repeat myself? I. Don't. Care."

"Fine. At least come back and eat some breakfast. You skipped dinner last night."

"Don't be such a fucking nag, Kurosaki."

"Come on, you must be hungry! What if I steal Keigo's keys and we go to that restaurant we passed on the way here?"

"No."

"Then let me grab you a sandwich."

"No."

"Ishida—"

"What part of 'go away' do you not get?"

"The part where you apparently want to starve to death in the woods rather than spend a little time with me," he snaps, glaring at the stubborn man. The more Ishida tells him no, the more he wants to force a yes, though he's not sure why. "What did I do to make you hate me so much?"

Now Ishida stops, huffing a humorless laugh, and turns a patronizing look on him full-force. "You exist. That's what you've done."

"Excuse me for worrying about your scrawny ass," Ichigo grumbles darkly. Despite hearing similar snipes from Ishida before, this one manages to pierce him like six rusty fish hooks. "No wonder you had so much trouble killing that Hollow."

Ishida's brow dips into a sharp v with that.

"Who are you calling scrawny? I could take _you_ head-to-head any day."

"Yeah? You and what muscle-mass? All I see is toothpick bones and vampire skin." Ichigo snorts when he really wants to gulp because the way Ishida tenses up and goes still has him rethinking this. But he's gone too far to back out now. He whips his black t-shirt over his head and gestures to his torso. "This is what strength looks like, Ishida. In case you didn't know."

Ishida's eyes flare momentarily. Then he looks over Ichigo's chest and abs and sneers. "I guess if you have to bulk up to gain strength. Some of us are more efficiently-built."

It's Ichigo's turn to stare as Ishida follows his example and unzips his shirt to show off his eight-pack. If Ichigo is honest, it's plain that Ishida is anything but scrawny. The taut canvas of flesh presses in all the right places to showcase perfect symmetry and impressive shape. He's seen male models with worse bodies than Ishida but he can't exactly admit that at this point. So he bluffs.

"Pffft. Yeah, you're a warrior, all right. If you think you could take me with that bag of marshmallows, bring it on!"

Preparing a mocking laugh to complete the façade, Ichigo is caught utterly off-guard when Ishida tackles him to the ground. He lets go of his shirt in favor of using both hands for defense. Ishida is not quite swinging fists, rather trying to pin Ichigo to the point that he cannot get up. Briefly, remorse has him considering conceding. Then he remembers his pride would never allow it.

Quick and calculating, Ishida narrows his eyes and struggles to maintain leverage as Ichigo focuses on throwing him off. He gets the upper hand, rolling Ishida and even pinning his right arm. But Ishida's dominant hand darts out and hits his rib cage in a spot that causes Ichigo's left side to jolt and tingle with pins and needles. Ishida shoves him backward and he hits the ground hard. Wiry legs lock around his thighs and Ichigo instinctively bucks upwards to dislodge him. But he succeeds only in wringing a fierce growl from Ishida, who redoubles his efforts and digs archery-strengthened fingertips into his forearms.

Feeling bruises bloom under the pressure, Ichigo scowls and rips an arm free to hang his elbow over Ishida's neck and tug. Their cheeks brush and he feels Ishida's gasp as his momentum tips. It is not enough to flip them this time; they use legs to grapple on their sides. Ishida's shirt is pushed over one shoulder, restricting his arm, and Ichigo exploits the opening. An anticipatory victory-smirk creeps across his face as he rallies a surge of power.

In two seconds flat, he has Ishida pinned, knees locked between his and wrists crossed above his head. Some of the fight drains from Ishida, recognizing his defeat when he can't obtain the torque to free his arms. Ichigo is using his extra two inches of height very effectively against Ishida.

At some point his glasses were dislodged because Ichigo realizes he is peering down into unguarded eyes. Richly-rimmed with dusty lashes, they are a startlingly vibrant blue and absolutely furious. He pants open-mouthed, as does Ichigo. The rasping sound draws his attention to the artful shape of it, dusky pink and faintly shining with moisture. Ishida relinquishes the last of his resistance and lets his head fall back on a resigned exhale. The motion splays his inky hair out in a wild halo and exposes his throat in an oddly vulnerable gesture.

It is in this moment that Ichigo has a strange thought. Vague yet pervading, it builds inside him, a confused mass of want and fear and intrigue. Ishida is so warm. Firm and smooth beneath him. He smells of soap and sweat and earth. Pulse jumping erratically despite his current inactivity, Ishida continues to stare up at Ichigo through half-lidded eyes. It should be an enraged glower, but it looks more like _permission_.

Ishida shifts subtly beneath him and Ichigo tightens his hold, a silent command to stay put: he's not done.

His gaze wanders lower, to Ishida's bare chest sprinkled with bits of grass and soil. The stretch of his lungs rippling across the surface. Then higher, to the place where his strained shirt digs against the distinct curve of his bicep. The contrast of Ichigo's tan hands shackled to pale wrists. Lax fingers brushing pebbles and sparse flora. Ichigo glances back to Ishida's face at length. He expects a raised eyebrow or an impatient frown, but Ishida is looking at him with just as much intensity and curiosity.

He knows the next step is not a word but an action. It begins to resolve in his mind as he watches Ishida's thoughts playing slow and careful over his face.

"Ichigo."

It is Chad's reverberant bass and both of them jerk their heads to the side and spot him and Inoue coming up the path.

"Um…" Inoue begins uncertainly.

She is looking between them with a comical mix of emotions that Ichigo would appreciate in different circumstances. He springs from Ishida and fights back a wicked blush as he retrieves his shirt and pulls it over his head. The resonant zip of Ishida's shirt follows, accompanied by the harried brush of dirt from cloth and hair and skin.

"We were just fighting," Ichigo blurts. He knows he's not fooling anyone because Inoue nods emphatically, eager to accept any euphemism. "Because Ishida won't eat anything."

"Did you not want any breakfast, Ishida-kun?"

"I brought a plate to his room earlier."

"What!" Ichigo yells at Chad. "You fed him? Why didn't you just say that, Ishida?"

"I told you I didn't want anything, Kurosaki," he sniffs indignantly, looking anywhere but at Ichigo. "You're the one who refused to listen."

"That's because I thought you were being all emo and anorexic like a little _girl_."

"Kurosaki-kun, wait…"

"The only 'little girl' here is _you_," Ishida snarls, facing him to glare properly. "Worried about everyone's feelings and safety and health even when they keep telling you to _get lost_."

"I wouldn't have to worry if you weren't such an emotional retard."

"Ichigo…"

"What!?" he shouts at them. They gaze at him with twin looks of discomfort and concern. Why aren't they looking at Ishida like this instead? "You see what I'm dealing with. What do you expect me to do when he's like this?"

"Maybe we should all go back to the cabin so we can talk about this—"

"Your concern is noted, Inoue-san, but I would much prefer to continue my hike. Alone."

With that he pivots on a heel and strides away from the three of them. Ichigo is about to run after him and—and do something, he's not sure yet—but Chad sets a palm on his shoulder and Inoue shoots him a pleading look. He doesn't want to talk to them, either. Right now talking would only confuse him further. So he shrugs and heads back towards the house. He seems to be doing a lot of shrugging lately.

Part of him is relieved when Inoue ignores Ishida's wish and follows him into the forest.

* * *

Ichigo spends the rest of the day fencing apologies from his friends and trying to avoid everyone. He stops back in at the kitchen to grab a sandwich around lunch time, but heads back out to walk the beach after. Uses the time to think about Ishida and what might've almost happened on the trail if Inoue and Chad hadn't shown up. What he maybe wanted to happen. Anticipating a good, long brood over this, Ichigo sinks to a level spot of sand beside a cluster of rocks and stares out at the soothing ocean. He pulls off his shirt to keep cooler and leans back in an imitation of total ease.

Stilted and wary at first, his thoughts begin to take courses he never could've dreamed about before. It's a combination of frustration and hurt from Ishida's behavior and the shock of seeing him from a new perspective. Along with elements of self-discovery and courageous contemplation. Notions of intimacy and desire flicker and flare like eager flames to the kindling of a revelation.

Although Ichigo is aware he can be slow to see certain foregone conclusions, even for him this is a little ridiculous. He has never thought of Ishida in any other way than as a friend, a comrade, or a pain in the ass. Now he digs a loose fist into the hot sand as he pictures himself murmuring compliments instead of barking insults. Gazing instead of glowering. Caressing instead of shoving.

Kissing instead of cursing.

That—Ichigo focuses on that. Just the idea of kissing Ishida. Part of him shies from it, adamantly opposed to such an unbelievable shift in reality. For the sake of certainty, he shuts that part out and lets the visions come. Imagines the taste of him and the sensation of his mouth fitting to Ichigo's. Feeling his heart beating strong and fast through his chest. Listening to the sounds he would make. Teasing with tongue and teeth and fingertips.

Closing his eyes slowly, Ichigo leans all the way back now and rests his other hand over his stomach, splaying it wide. Traces it up to the base of his breast where he can feel his own heart beating, strong and fast as a result of these thoughts. His lips part slightly on a surprised wisp of breath. He takes it a step further. Pictures Ishida reaching for him, dragging him in closer. Palms pressing urgent and damp. Voice dipping in gratification. Replays that little scene in their room where Ishida dropped his pants without a speck of hesitation.  
He is sweating. Overheated and indolent with bone-deep contentment. Ichigo doesn't bother blaming it on the sun. It only takes a bit more and now he's undeniably sure; lying on the beach with a boner will do that for you.


	2. Chapter 2

When he returns to the group just before nightfall, it is to a raucous round of drinking games. Keigo found his grandparents' ancient cache of sake and volunteered it for 'ritual libations'. Or so Tatsuki tells him when he walks over to sit beside her. She is nursing a mostly-full glass whereas everyone else is on their last dregs. That's mostly because the game is _truth or dare_ and Tatsuki is shameless.

"Ichigo, where ya been?" slurs Keigo, clearly the worst at this game. "Y'look tanner…"

"Not like he needs more of a tan," giggles Chizuru. "Clashing with that gaudy hair!"

"It works for you, Ichigo," Mizuiro smirks.

Ichigo can't decide whether he wants to stay out of it or jump right in. He is careful not to glance directly at Ishida, leaning over an armrest beside Chad and Inoue. He's had too many impolite thoughts about him and he can't be sure they won't show on his face. Though he does notice that Ishida's glass is only half-empty. Keigo catches the observation.

"Ah, it looks like he's beating all of us, right?" he nods, then shakes his head like a wet dog. "No! That's his second round because he keeps refusing to answer or do any cool dares. Glasses is a horrible truth-or-darer!"

"Like you can talk," Tatsuki chastises. "You're at the bottom of your second round because you keep messing up your dares." She leans in to whisper to Ichigo, "We made Keigo and Chizuru apologize for being assholes to Ishida earlier."

Nodding in comprehension, he flashes her a small smile which she returns.

"Are you playing, Kurosaki-kun? I can get you a drink."

"Sure."

Inoue fetches a glass and pours sake as promised. She also sends him a reassuring grin before retaking her seat. What is it with the women in his life that they can be hyper-intuitive like this? At least they're supportive.

So Ichigo tries not to think too much and plays along with his friends. Truth questions like_how many girls have you kissed_ and dares like _eat a dog treat_ are traded around the circle. But the more they drink, the bolder they get. Truths become demands of _what's your darkest fantasy_ and dares devolve into orders of _streak around the cabin and back_. Keigo is the victim of that last one, stuck with it after having passed up the previous dare. It's all moderately clean fun until Keigo decides to take revenge on Ishida via Ichigo.

"Ichigo, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he says, feeling lazy with alcohol and laughter.

"Tell us how you _really_ feel about Ishida!"

Inoue gasps and claps her hands over her mouth in shock. Chizuru giggles evilly. Mizuiro raises his eyebrows in curiosity. Tatsuki stiffens beside him. Chad remains unaffected and Ichigo does his best to mimic the man. But then he makes the fatal mistake of finally looking at Ishida and he freezes right up. Because all of his afternoon's thoughts come flooding back in and he's looking right at Ishida while daydreaming about making out with him. As he had feared.

He hears somebody cough awkwardly and realizes he's been staring at Ishida for far too long. Keigo grins maniacally because he is expecting Ichigo to say he actually dislikes Ishida. That he pities him and would prefer not to hang around him ever again. Too bad he can't really take consolation in proving him wrong this time.

"I, uh…"

He picks up his glass to just take the penalty and Keigo jumps up to snatch it away, spilling some on Chizuru's skirt in the process. Ignoring her outraged cry, he says, "No no no no _no_, Ichigooooo! You took the penalty last round so you have to answer or leave the game."

"Okay, then I quit."

Keigo's jaw drops. "No, but…"

"Yeah, I think I'll turn in early—"

"Just tell them, Kurosaki."

All eyes take turns darting between the two of them. Ichigo looks at Ishida, lounging so serenely and seeming the epitome of unshakable. His expression is the meticulously-staged kind of blasé reserved for art critics, middle-aged drag queens, and drunken housewives. Ichigo is startled by a simultaneous surge of aggravation and lust.

"I really doubt you want me to do that, Ishida."

"On the contrary, I insist."

"No, really—"

"I don't mind," Ishida states, lifting a hand to flop back and forth for emphasis. "Tell them all about how you're disgusted and infuriated by me. I'm sure it's no surprise to anyone." Ichigo laughs aloud at the irony; he can't help it. Ishida nods a little, like he's just confirmed something. "Tell them how you only forced your monkey to invite me here—"

"Hey!"

"Because you didn't want to go yourself and thought there's no way in hell I'd sign up for this shit-show."

"Is that true, Kurosaki-kun?"

Inoue and Chad frown gently at him in disapproval. Never mind that Ishida just called their vacation a 'shit-show'.

"Well, parts of it, yeah, but—"

"I knew it!" cries Keigo, jumping and cheering while Ichigo glances around at his friends in the beginning stages of panic.

"It's not like that, though," he insists. Ichigo rubs at his forehead and resists the urge to sigh or blurt something he will regret later. "Look, Ishida, you've got it wrong."

"Which part, Kurosaki?"

"You don't disgust me, for one." Ishida eyes him with skepticism, but that's better than outright disbelief. Nodding in emphasis, Ichigo continues, "Yes, you can be infuriating but only when you're _trying_ to be. And you know it."

"But did you really not want to come?" Chad asks this time.

"It's complicated," he grits, frustrated with being unable to explain properly. "But either way it's not like I didn't want Ishida to come."

"Booooring," Chizuru announces. "Enough of this _telenovela_ bullshit. On with the game! Ichigo, pick someone to dare."

"But Ichigo still hasn't answered the question!" Keigo splutters, gesturing with emphatic hands. "Just denying what Glasses said isn't telling us anything."

Fighting the urge to bellow at all of them, Ichigo snaps, "Ishida, truth or dare?"

It's the first time he's called on Ishida and none of them really knows what to make of this development. Keigo clicks his jaw shut and sits back in his seat quietly. Chizuru rolls her eyes but bears with it. For his part, Ishida takes a moment to assess Ichigo's mood before answering.

"Truth."

"How do you feel about _me_?"

The silence is complete but for the perpetual shush of shuffling sea coming through the open windows. Ishida's face contorts into so many emotions so quickly that he almost looks like he's having a stroke. He levels out on disbelief, then acceptance. Then he slams back the remainder of his glass in one go. Ichigo's eyebrows shoot up and then dip in confusion. This could mean so many things, not least of which being that Ishida hates him so much he literally chooses to get drunk rather than announce how truly loathsome he finds Ichigo in front of everyone.

On the other hand…

"Kurosaki, truth or dare?"

Rule-keeper Keigo doesn't bother interrupting to remind them that you can't pick the person who just went right after their turn. In fact, everyone seems too firmly ensconced in this hysteria to do much of anything. Even Tatsuki is watching with rapt attention.

"Dare."

"I dare you to chug the rest of that bottle of sake."

Again, rule-keeper keeps his trap shut about daring the penalty. Ichigo notes that the bottle is indeed a third full as he remembered. He also notes that Ishida seems pretty confident he will actually leave the game this time. A tiny smirk plays at one corner of his mouth. He thinks he's won! Of course, getting Ichigo out of his hair has been his goal since they got here, so it makes sense he would try to chase him away now.

So Ichigo grins at Ishida and downs the bottle in a smart series of measured gulps. He ends it with a wince and a fiery whoosh of breath, slamming the bottle back down in triumph. All eyes are on him. Ichigo laughs.

"Truth or dare, Ishida." He opens his mouth, eyes still full of shock, but Ichigo interrupts him to say, "And you picked truth last time, so I guess it's dare now, right? In that case, I dare you to go outside with me right now."

His friends gape at the two of them as they face-off. Ishida can't refuse after that display. On his pride, there's no way he could bear to say no. He doesn't. Mouth shut in a stiff line, he stands and follows Ichigo out the front door, down the gravel path to the driveway, and over to Keigo's mom's van, which Ichigo snatched the keys to on the way out.

"Kurosaki, what—?"

"Get in," he orders, opening the door and tilting his head to indicate.

Uncertainty clouds Ishida's delicate-yet-masculine features—and Ichigo knows he's tipsy if he's using stupid adjectives like that to describe the guy. Ishida does as he's told. Ichigo follows him in and shuts the door behind them. The windows are tinted and the lights go out a few seconds after he shuts the door; Ichigo smiles as he thinks this. Their only light source is the distant porch light and the half-full moon. It's just enough to make out dull colors and vague details. Then he turns to face Ishida and gets serious.

"What kind of moronic joke is this?"

"I don't hate you, Ishida." Arms crossed, Ishida scowls and gives him the most condescending look of incredulity that ever graced a sullied aristocrat. "I'm fucking serious!"

"You're an idiot. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go—"

"Wait. Just tell me one thing?"

"What is it?"

The way he asks is weary to the point of sorrow. Ishida doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to be near Ichigo. Doesn't want to deal with this. He is fragile and wounded and hurting because of something Ichigo saw way too late. Maybe he can still make it right. Maybe he can give Ishida what he wants, _finally_.

"Will you hit me if I kiss you?"

"_What_!?"

Ichigo doesn't give him the chance to answer. It doesn't matter anyway: he's doing it.

Before Ishida throws up his arms in defense, Ichigo pushes them aside and leans in to steal the tiniest taste of him. It touches along the edge of his bottom lip, just barely brushing. There and gone. He pulls back prepared for an onslaught. Or a screaming fit. Or a death-glare. Ichigo is not expecting to see Ishida stunned and shaken to the point that all he can do is gasp in shallow breaths and stare at him.

"You okay?"

"W-why did you…"

The poor guy blinks twice quickly and lets out a stuttering breath. Ichigo actually feels kind of bad for apparently breaking Ishida's brain. He makes up for it by ducking back in. Careful aim, lower lip pressed between a slackened pair, slow close. Ishida lets out a puzzled little hum and returns it with the slightest pressure. Staying put, Ichigo takes a long breath and pushes a bit more. Releases and returns with a calculated shift in angle._There_. He feels Ishida's breath slip out and rush back in. Senses the moment when he decides to give in and soon Ishida is working up to ardent with each fresh purse of slick lips.

Ishida jerks back with a muted smack and turns from him. He runs a shaky hand over his mouth and stares at the seat in front of him without seeing it. Head spinning slightly—that was a lot of alcohol, damn it—Ichigo waits to see what he will do. After a long moment, the hand falls and Ishida visibly comes to some inner conclusion.

"You smell like sake."

"Who's fault is that?" Ichigo chuckles. He's ecstatic because Ishida isn't yelling at him. But his reply has Ishida frowning and, uncharacteristically perceptive, Ichigo thinks he knows why. "I'm not drunk, Ishida."

"Of course not."

"I'm _not_. Even if I was, I didn't do that because of alcohol."

"Doesn't mean you won't regret this tomorrow."

"Will you?"

Falling silent, Ishida gazes out the window and closes up. Ichigo inwardly curses. There is probably only one thing he can say that might convince Ishida he isn't just messing around right now. He has to say it but it's going to cost him.

"I spent the whole afternoon…fantasizing about it. I think I might've dreamed about it last night."

The slow twist of his head towards Ichigo, eyes flared and dark, is somehow erotic.

"About what, exactly?" It comes out breathless and Ishida clears his throat to cover for the slip. Rather than answer—Ishida knows full-well what he means—Ichigo gives him a sultry look intended to entice. "Don't be weird, Kurosaki."

He breaks into a grin and is delighted to see it spark a tiny tug of a smile. Then he slides a hand over Ishida's leg and scoots a little closer. Making intimate eye-contact and tilting his head a fraction in invitation. Ishida's breath stutters. It's a bit awkward—this seduction thing is _hard_—but Ichigo keeps staring until Ishida understands. He sees the precise moment when Ishida gets it. Eyes softening in defenselessness, mouth going slack with indecision.

A strained sound quivers in Ishida's throat and he fists into Ichigo's shirt to yank him close. His kiss is chaotic, hot, and overflowing with desperation. With Ichigo's guidance, it becomes something more like catharsis. He matches Ishida's intensity and grips tighter to his thigh, scooting daringly higher. The sensation of Ishida's tongue licking over his bottom lip shoots straight to his groin. He groans low and approving as their tongues meet and meld.

Melting. Ichigo is melting. Sweat dots his skin, boiling up from his rushing blood. Ishida shoves him down against the seat. He falls willingly, happy to let the man climb over him and reinitiate the kiss with a frenetic moan and a light tug to his hair. Fingertips drag against his skin where Ishida has pushed up under his shirt to roam.

Ichigo is momentarily surprised when his hands are shoved away from Ishida's hovering hips upon contact. But the way he pulls a little tighter at Ichigo's spiky locks is telling. This is partially about control, getting back at him for earlier today as well as ensuring his own autonomy, perhaps. If this is what Ishida needs to feel secure, to get what he needs from this, then he will gladly give it. He moves his arms up past his head and lets them hang off the edge of the seat, innocuous and well out of Ishida's personal space.

Pulling away to marvel at this development, Ishida regards him with doubt for a minute. Ichigo simply smirks and waits. It pays off: Ishida settles back in with a dominating tongue and practically fuses their bodies together.

"Kurosaki," he briefly breaks to breathe in an urgent murmur. Ichigo moans in response.

Then Ishida cants his hips _perfectly_ and Ichigo grabs onto the seat to keep his hands off this salacious creature. He can't control his own body completely, though, since he is unthinkingly mirroring Ishida's motions with the repetitive slithering arc of his spine. Now they must cease kissing in favor of panting open-mouthed. Gasping against the pleasure, he stares up at Ishida with heavy eyelids. The midnight blue of razor-thin irises is a mere hint in his steady gaze.

Escalating rhythms crash to a halt as the cabin's front door is slammed shut. A curious voice soon follows. They exchange discomfited looks as they separate and attempt to compose themselves.

"Where did you guys go?" they hear Tatsuki call from afar.

Ichigo sighs at her poor timing and consults with Ishida before opening the car door and stepping out. He sends out a quick prayer that it's dark enough out here to hide any evidence of more than discussion. Their own flushed faces aren't helping.

"Hey, Tatsuki."

"There you are." She takes one look at them and raises her eyebrows in comprehension. Ichigo swears under his breath. "Whoa. Sorry for interrupting. I just came to make sure you weren't killing each other, but uh…I guess I was worried for nothing."

"Yeah," Ichigo affirms, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Please don't mention—"

"Consider me deaf and dumb!" Her smile is benign and cheerful. Even Ishida relaxes at the sight of it. "I'm just glad you guys won't be fighting all week."

"No promises," Ishida says to lighten the mood.

"Maybe for you guys, bitching is as fun as kissing, huh?" she snickers. Ishida flushes red and readjusts his glasses, but there is no beam of light to reflect and hide his eyes this time. "So, I guess I'll leave you to it. I'll tell the others not to bother looking for you."

Tatsuki turns on a heel and heads back. Ishida follows without a glance at Ichigo. He watches them walk into the cabin and shut the door behind them, swaying gently where he stands. Ichigo thinks maybe he is drunk after all because he could swear Ishida almost looked relieved at the interruption.

* * *

Volleyball is a lot easier when you're not recovering from your very first hangover, Ichigo concludes. Still, it's worth it if it means he can ogle Ishida topless all he wants. As long as he watches out for the ball; he's already been hit in the head twice. He's also lucky they're on different teams. That way he can still pretend to be paying attention.

Ishida frowns at him, catching him staring for the ~nth time now. He aims a spike at Ichigo but Keigo intercepts it.

They haven't talked or even spent a second alone and conscious since last night. Every extra hour that goes by without them speaking to each other grates against him. It feels too much like losing grip on something precious and fleeting. It's not even about sexual frustration or finishing what they started. He wants to solidify this before they go back to arguing and miscommunication again. There's something to this that feels natural, necessary. Ichigo doesn't want to revert to pseudo-friendship when they could create a new type of bond entirely.

Problem is he has no idea how to tell Ishida this.

"Are you playing or daydreaming?" Mizuiro taunts.

"Got a hottie in sight?" comes Keigo's usual babble.

"Yep."

Ichigo grins and Tatsuki bursts out laughing as Ishida reddens.

"Really?" Keigo glances around the beach, where several other groups are out enjoying the day, and spots a trio of young women by the shore."Hell yes! That is what I'm talking about."

Chizuru punches the ball right into the back of his skull.

"Why are you looking over there when you have three beautiful ladies right in front of you?"

"You're gay," he cries, rubbing his head and shaking a fist at her. "Why would I look at you?"

"Appreciating fine art doesn't require ownership!"

"Tell that to my penis!"

That gets him a resounding slap in the face, sparking a shouting match. Inoue and Tatsuki drag the fuming woman off towards their beach camp while Mizuiro and Chad carry an abused Keigo away to cry in manly solitude by the bathroom. Before they know what happened, Ichigo and Ishida are left standing on opposite sides of a flimsy net idly waving in the breeze. They look at each other in bafflement. Ichigo picks up the ball and shoots him a questioning look. Ishida shrugs.

They play normally for a while, but soon the capricious spirit of rivalry rises up and takes indelible hold. Measured bumps and careful taps turn into spiking jumps and fierce slaps. Muscles burn and bones ache but neither of them is about to forfeit. Point for point, they strive harder with each passing moment. Each determined to prove himself.

Once it reaches the level of take-a-break or pass-the-fuck-out, Ichigo swipes the ball out of the air with a growl and plunks down in the sand where he stands. Ishida bends over to lean on his knees but doesn't sit. They take a moment to catch their breath and wipe sweat from their eyes.

"What's the matter, Kurosaki?" he eventually quips. Walking over to the net, he stares down at him with hands perched haughtily on his hips. "Don't have the stamina to keep up with me?"

"I didn't hear any complaints last night." It's a stupid comment and they both know it. Still, the reminder is enough to embarrass Ishida into momentary silence. "You should be glad we stopped because I was about to _own_ your ass."

"In your dreams," he drawls, single eyebrow arched high.

"Heh. You got me there." The admission staggers Ishida's cool poise and he glances away in unease. "Maybe later we could—"  
"In my _nightmares_."

With that, Ishida strides off after the women, tanning on blankets and sipping juice. Ichigo is left to muse over that jab. For a second there, it felt like old times. Like when they used to banter about inane things like fighting styles and Hollow-killing techniques. Before there was real spite in their dialogue. Before all this unresolved tension. Plus, the flirtatious undertones are a nice bonus, but Ishida seems intent on not playing along.

Ichigo will just have to persuade him.

* * *

Ishida is evasive as a veteran ninja but there is nowhere else he can run. He's in Ichigo's clutches now. Trapped between him and the arm of the plump loveseat they're sinking into. One final futile attempt at escape ends with Ichigo yanking on his belt loop and nearly falling into his lap. He doesn't try again. Especially when everyone notices his shenanigans and keeps looking away from the movie to see what's going on.

"Stay, Ishida," Ichigo coos in an exaggeratedly soothing voice. "I won't bite."

"Like hell," he grumbles back.

But he settles in and sits stiffly, careful not to let any part of their bodies touch. So Ichigo stretches out and puts as much of them in contact as possible. The tension in Ishida's posture is enough to cause a sympathy-crick in Ichigo's neck, although it looks like the exact same way he sits at school every day. He is determined to push until Ishida relaxes but the movie, _The Matrix_, begins to get more interesting. Distracted by a sudden observation, he takes turns watching Keanu Reeves and glancing at Ishida from the corner of his eye.

"You know, you look like Keanu," he leans in to whisper, "Only prettier."

"Shut up," Ishida mutters without looking at him. "I haven't seen this one yet, so don't ruin it."

"What? Who hasn't seen _The Matrix_?"

"Some of us spend more time learning than vegetating."

"Oh, I forget you're some kind of super-genius."

Actually, he loves the fact that Ishida is so smart. It usually results in him saving Ichigo from making a lot of stupid mistakes. Not to mention it can be incredibly interesting listening to him go on about some obscure piece of information. At first, he tended to get annoyed, thinking Ishida was showing off or intentionally distracting him. Then he realized he was just that much of a nerd. After that he was able to listen and take interest, maybe even appreciate that side of his friend. Now that he thinks about it, that had actually been a major turning point in their relationship.

"If only I had fewer functioning brain cells and could be _normal_ for you, Kurosaki," Ishida snarls loud enough for the others to hear and turn around in curiosity. "So sorry to be such a fucking inconvenience."

Ichigo scowls until their friends turn back around and mind their own damned business. Then he pokes Ishida in the side for being a brat. He follows that up by leaning in close enough to brush his lips against the shell of Ishida's ear and murmuring low and intimate.

"Your brain is one of your sexiest qualities." Ishida's quick gasp is inaudible; Ichigo feels it in the subtle movement where they are connected at the shoulders. "And the way that you fight…I bet you could take Smith, no problem."

"Who's 'Smith'?" he asks, of all things. Probably choosing to ignore this seduction, the better to resist it.

"You'll see."

The scene where Neo is being implanted with the bug comes up and Ichigo's thoughts take a turn for the worse. He's imagining Ishida tossed onto his desk, shirt ripped open and rendered helpless before him. How hard would it be to make that happen? Maybe he could invite him over to do homework while his family was out and…

"Kurosaki, what are you thinking about?" Ishida is eyeing him with obvious suspicion, eyes narrowed and inscrutable behind the screen's reflection on his glasses. Ichigo wonders if he is really that transparent or if Ishida just knows him that well. "Stop it."

"I can't help it," he truthfully replies with a loose shrug that brushes their arms together. Again, he gets close and confesses, "I can't stop thinking about how hot you are when you're turned-on."

Ishida makes a small sound of distress and shifts uncomfortably. That's when Ichigo notices something important. Far from having zero effect, Ichigo's words and actions are having _precisely_ the desired effect on him. He sees it in the way Ishida breathes quick and shallow, licks his lips at intervals, and uses his fringe to hide the heated flush spreading high across his cheekbones. A jolt of lust sets Ichigo's pulse jumping at this knowledge.

He creeps a hand up the side of Ishida's knee, slowly drags it over the top of his thigh. Ishida resolutely ignores him. Fingers dance to his hip and trace along his hemline. Shifting fabric, he finds warm, soft skin and paints swirling designs against it. His other arm comes up to rest on the back of the couch behind Ishida, hand spilling onto the man's stiff shoulder. He tickles along the back of Ishida's neck, rustling fine hair and raising gooseflesh in his wake. Ishida shivers once but otherwise keeps totally still.

This is fun. So much more fun than Ichigo anticipated that he is tempted to continue this for the rest of the movie. But he knows that the longer he does this, the likelier someone is to glance back and catch them at it. For several reasons, he does not want that. He also doesn't want to stop when he's on a roll. The best compromise is clear: he has to instigate until Ishida flees.

Ichigo darts in and laves a wet stripe up Ishida's slim neck, nips at his ear lobe, and sucks a hot kiss into the hollow behind it. Ishida bites his lip and clenches his eyes shut against the onslaught. His nails dig into the armrest and the tiniest noise slips out despite his efforts.  
With that, Ichigo retreats just in time to separate from him before Chad turns to peer at them through his curly brown bangs. Ichigo puts on his best innocent expression and shows his unoccupied hands, but Ishida's harried panting is giving them away. Chad raises an eyebrow but stays out of it. Amazingly, Ishida remains rooted to the sofa in spite of this torture. If he thinks that's the best Ichigo can do, he's in for the surprise of his life!

"K-Kurosaki," he manages to grate out at last. "I know what you're doing and it's not going to work."

"You sure about that?"

His silence answers for him. Their eyes fix on the TV, watching Neo being birthed from the machines' human-farm. When Neo and Morpheus begin sparring inside the matrix, Ichigo recalls what it felt like to wrestle with Ishida yesterday. Compares it with memories of them fighting together in battle. It was exhilarating in a new way sparring never has been before. He wants to do it again. For now, he'll have to settle with getting Ishida upstairs so perhaps they can practice a different sort of training entirely. He doesn't want to wait anymore, damn it!

Emboldened by impatience, Ichigo sheds all inhibitions and reaches out to turn Ishida's chin towards him for a forceful kiss. At the same time, his free hand slides right over Ishida's belly and plunges until it fits quite snugly over the front of his pants. He feels Ishida's half-erection twitch against his hand before the man is out of his seat and up the stairs before Ichigo can react. Hearing his exit, the group turns to ask Ichigo a wordless question.

"I think Ishida's scared of the machines," he cheekily quips. Inoue turns a softly scolding look on him and he mouths an apology as he gets up to follow Ishida. "I'll go make sure he's all right."

As soon as he steps into the room, Ishida goes off on him.

"What the hell is your problem, Kurosaki? Are you such a child that you can't respect someone else's wishes when they tell you _no_?"

"But you didn't say 'no'."

"It was implied!" he yells, throwing up his hands and stalking over to get in Ichigo's face. "What makes you think you can do whatever you like all the time?"

"Because I know you want this, too," Ichigo reasons. If Ishida wasn't interested, he wouldn't be affected by Ichigo's advances. "And it's part of your personality to be uptight about that stuff. You're still a virgin, right? Do you even masturbate?"

Ishida's mouth falls open in furious astonishment for half a second. And then he explodes.

"How could you possibly presume to know the slightest thing about me, Kurosaki? Ninety-nine percent of the time we've ever spent together has been about fighting. Fighting Hollows, fighting power-hungry assholes, fighting _each other_," here Ishida pauses only to take a long breath and continue shooting out words AK-47 style. Ichigo is beginning to regret his hastiness a smidge. "And when you finally get it into your head that I'm an actual human being instead of a burden or a pawn in your megalomaniac view of the world, you decide that I'm yours to have if you want me. Not only that, but that I'm utterly incapable of experiencing lust if it's not in the shape of reacting to yours!"

His diatribe makes several things painfully clear to Ichigo. First, he is right about their interactions primarily resembling confrontation but Ichigo hopes to change that as soon as possible. Second, Ishida must really be a virgin and very bitter about it or he wouldn't have gotten so flustered at the comment. Third and most essential, Ichigo realizes that his actions have given the wrong idea about why he's pursuing Ishida. A mishap he intends to correct immediately.

"It's true that you're hot, Ishida, but I don't just want you for your body." Ishida looks on the verge of trading blows, so he hurriedly continues. "Look, I've always respected your intelligence, your strength, and your perseverance. Trusted you to watch my back and keep me from committing fatal errors. Considered you my friend even when you repeatedly denied it. The only thing that changed is I realized I'm attracted to you."

"Does that entitle you to treat me like your sex-slave?"

"Of course not," Ichigo winces at the notion. "I never meant to make you feel like I considered you as just a piece of ass. But I saw you in a new light and the potential kind of blind-sided me—made me over-eager."

"What _potential_?"

Now Ishida starts to lose steam, seeing where Ichigo is going with this. The vulnerability is back and this time Ichigo knows what to do with it. Rather than explain in words, he believes the message will come through better with an action. Taking a step towards Ishida, tense in preparation for flight, Ichigo asks for faith with his expression. He allows Ichigo to move closer, enough to take hold of one of his hands and brush the fringe from his face. Ishida eyes him with a tenacious moue marring his brow, but doesn't push him away when Ichigo closes the distance with a gentle kiss.

"The potential for a relationship, maybe?" he murmurs hopefully. "I kinda like the idea of being your boyfriend."

Ishida frowns thoughtfully at this. It's that rare pinch to the eyes he gets when he doesn't understand something at its very core. Ichigo has only ever seen it twice before, but he remembers it well. Holding the look for half a minute, Ishida finally responds.

"Are you insane!?" He yanks his hand from Ichigo's grasp and shoves against his chest, making him take a step back. "You want to be _boyfriends_, Kurosaki? Give me a fucking break!"

"What? What's wrong with that?"

"How about 'I can't stand you'?"

"Lie."

"'We were never friends'."

"Wrong."

"'I don't want you'," Ishida hisses. His fists are balled at his sides but Ichigo will not be dissuaded now. "'I _hate_ you, Kurosaki Ichigo'."

"You love me."

Recoiling as if struck, Ishida stares aghast at that vain assertion.

Ichigo is feeling bolder than he has since he demanded to be tutored by Shinji as a Vaizard. He's thinking clearer than he has since Inoue was kidnapped and he knew exactly what had to be done. Most importantly, Ichigo knows what he wants now and he's prepared to put in the effort to get it. Which is why he doesn't throw in the proverbial towel when Ishida snarls something vitriolic—alarmingly red in the face—and pushes past Ichigo to leave.

But Ichigo stops him with a firm grip on his arm.

"Amazing."

"Wha—"

"Even here you must exercise your urge for oppression on me," Ishida emotionlessly intones. He turns to face Ichigo with a defeated stance. "I can't even escape you."

"What are you talking about? I don't oppress you." Ichigo watches the man shake his head sadly. "Hey, it's not that serious. I just knew if I let you run off like that you'd probably never speak to me again. That's the _last_ thing I want."

"Because everything is about what you want."

"Of course it isn't—"

"Because Kurosaki Ichigo is the center of the universe, right?" Ishida flings his arms wide to encompass much more than the small room around them. "So talented and powerful and dedicated. Loved by all."

"It's not like that, Ishida! You know I don't really care about what most people think of me."

"Is that why you won't tell your friends about us?" Ishida grumbles almost as a tangential topic. "Sneaking outside so you could kiss me in private? Luring me upstairs so they won't see?"

Now Ichigo is thinking maybe there's more to this than Ishida having a crush on him after all. Ishida walks off to glare out the window at the sea and struggle against his thoughts, leaving Ichigo some time to consider for a moment. He thinks about Ishida in ways that have never occurred to him before. What it was like growing up without a mother, then losing his grandfather. Left with only a cold bastard of a father. Shy, introverted, and too smart for his own good, Ishida has always led a lonely existence. So much so that Ichigo thinks maybe he is uncomfortable with caring for someone beyond simple friendship.

Maybe he's terrified of it.

Maybe Ichigo is being insanely selfish to expect so much from Ishida so swiftly. A few days ago they were barely speaking to each other. Now Ichigo is following him around, touching and mooning and offering things Ishida can't really comprehend. From Ishida's perspective, this is possibly something closer to manipulation or coercion. There must be a way to convince him of the truth!

In a rare flash of insight, Ichigo gets a fantastic idea.

"Ishida," he gets his attention, walking over to look him straight in the eye, "Part of the problem is you think I just want to get off, right?" Embarrassment colors his cheeks but Ishida's frown sticks in place. He gives a slight nod and a skeptical raise of one eyebrow. "I can disprove that. Will you let me?"

"What could you possibly do—"

"Will you let me?" Ichigo repeats, letting his eagerness spill through in the breathless way he requests consent. Ishida wavers between outright refusal and hesitant acquiescence for several beats. Curiosity gets the better of him.

"Fine."

Ichigo flashes him a quick grin and shoves. Ishida falls to the bed behind him with an indignant squawk, opening his mouth to complain, so he cuts it off with a kiss. He doesn't hold back, doesn't give Ishida time to protest before he can make his point. Pushing his tongue in and his hand up, Ichigo effectively silences the man for a moment. Ichigo holds his head still with a careful grip of his sea-scented hair. His other hand has unwrapped belly and chest from the thin fabric of Ishida's shirt. Now it is stealthily working on his shorts.

With a startled hum, Ishida catches on just as his underwear are breached. Ichigo keeps going, allowing the kiss to be broken in favor of dipping to lick at a working chest. The hot weight of another man's erection in his palm should be an odd sensation, but Ichigo is both intrigued and aroused by it _because_ it is Ishida's. He gives an experimental squeeze. Ishida begins to stutter out disbelieving snatches of remonstration between heavy breaths and rapid gasps. His hands settle on Ichigo's shoulders and give a push weakened by distracting sensation. They all go ignored in favor of continuing to the main goal: his mouth finds it hot and very interested.

The taste of Ishida's skin is lightly enhanced with salt and sand from the ocean. Ichigo savors it, letting the flavors melt together onto his tongue as he moves downward and steadily devours Ishida whole. He notices that Ishida has gone silent and mostly still. Glancing up to see why, Ichigo can't help moaning at the image he creates. Mouth open on a silent cry, Ishida's slanted eyes are shut tightly as his long body curves in a shallow arch. His abs are clenching beautifully from the strain. One fist twisting into the sheet beneath him while the other pulls aimlessly at his hiked shirt.

Suddenly Ichigo is more determined than ever to bring Ishida pleasure. An invigorating curl of lust snakes through his chest and settles just above his hips, warm and waiting. He shifts Ishida's leg aside for better access and keeps eyes locked on him as he sucks a little harder, dives a little deeper, and moves a little faster. That earns him a tortured groan past a bitten lip and Ishida tosses his head to the side. His hair splays wide, half covering his face and half radiating against the sheets. Ichigo rewards this display by taking the last of his length.

"K-_Kuro_—_saki_!" he whines, sparking another jolt of heat to join the first in Ichigo's gut. "I c-can't…"

He isn't sure what Ishida means but he can make a good guess. Propping his other leg out of the way, Ichigo settles in and ups his game. He tries to keep his focus narrowed to the task, but Ishida is making a plaintive series of the hottest murmurs Ichigo has ever heard. The sounds coalesce in his hazy mind and become a siren song. His cock twitches in his shorts and it would be so easy to reach down and join Ishida's quick climb to euphoria. Just from watching and listening to him, Ichigo is so close. He wants to feel that connection and take part in the spoils of their mutual attraction, the consummation of their long-awaited admissions to each other.

But he won't.

It would be so easy to think of this moment and nothing more, but Ichigo knows immediate gratification cannot compare to what he can achieve by holding back. This is not about his enjoyment; it is about Ishida's trust. With that in mind, Ichigo easily resists the urge and sets back on course. He tries something with the tip of his tongue that has Ishida bucking against him. Hands hold impatient hips down and Ichigo is fascinated to see toes curling in tandem with fingers as Ishida moans low and musical. A fine sheen of sweat breaks across his pale skin as his brows knit together.

Ichigo rumbles an appreciative growl, feeling his stomach muscles tightening of their own volition. It's the telltale precursor to orgasm that he is witnessing on Ishida at this moment. He takes a deep breath through his nose and heeds Ishida's urgent, stuttering warning. In that penultimate instant, he replaces his mouth for a firm hand and leans over Ishida to drag him into a sloppy kiss. More a loose drag of lips and tongues than anything intent, but it is almost enough to set Ichigo over the edge.

When Ishida comes, his breath sticks in his throat for a tense second before rolling out in a shocked shout, muffled by Ichigo's waiting mouth. His spine snaps his hips up into Ichigo's hand and his head back against the mattress. Hands grasp sharply to Ichigo's arms as knees press against his thighs. It is all Ichigo can do not to fall right after him. He bites his lip and twists his free hand in the rumpled blanket as he shamelessly memorizes every nuance of Ishida's climax. It's something he hopes to see many, many times in the future.

The moment fades and Ichigo tugs off his own t-shirt to carefully wipe at the mess he made of Ishida. The man's dazed eyes slide slowly open and find Ichigo's flushed face. Ishida's breath continues to sift out through parted lips and Ichigo wants to stretch out and steal it from him. His erection is a stubborn thing throbbing in time with his enraptured heart. He moves to Ishida's left and keeps it from touching any part of that warm flesh.

Noticing this maneuver, Ishida glances placidly at his groin. Understanding flits across his face with the miniscule twitch of an eyebrow. Then he is ghosting those long, nimble fingers over Ichigo's zip. With a dismayed grunt, Ichigo catches the hand at its wrist and pulls it away. Ishida scrunches his brow in sleepy confusion soon cleared by incredulous comprehension. He opens his mouth to speak but Ichigo preempts him.

"It kinda ruins the gesture if I get to come, too."

"'Gesture'?"

Now he sits up on his elbow to gaze down at Ishida with the full scope of his sincerity. Lifting away his skewed glasses, Ichigo smiles and brushes hair from his face. Darts down to kiss the convex curve of a bare shoulder, the concave crook of his neck. Ishida's eyes widen with childlike susceptibility at the intimacy he is shown.

"You mean more to me than an easy lay, Ishida. I'll prove it by keeping my hands off you until you ask." As he says this, Ichigo regretfully retracts his limbs and lips from contact with Ishida's warm, soft skin. "That was just to make up for teasing you so much in the first place. Now we're even."

Ishida raises an eyebrow and shoots an obvious glance south to Ichigo's stubborn erection as if to emphasize that they really aren't. Ichigo gives a wry smile and shrugs. Sense slowly returns and with it rises a persistent confusion in Ishida. He looks at Ichigo as if he is beginning to see him unpeel, layers falling away to reveal hidden surprises underneath.

"Kurosaki…are you seriously saying you want to _date_ me?"

"Yeah," he huffs out a retained breath and rubs at the back of his head. "I think I am."

"Have you ever been on a date before?"

It is asked without criticism but Ichigo's pride is poked anyway. Sexual frustration is relocated and he feels his mouth tug into a light frown.

"What difference does that make? You haven't either."

"Are you even sure you're gay?"

"Gay or bi or pansexual, who cares?" Ichigo's voice raises a notch. He sits up and props an elbow on a raised knee, staring at his own lap. "It's not like you could deny that I've got the hots for your nerdy ass."

Ishida sits up, too, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lower half. Ichigo can tell he really wants to ask one thing in particular. The pinched edges of his expression indicate he's not sure he's ready for the answer. They look at each other for a long moment, silently contemplating. Then Ishida blurts it out before he can change his mind.

"Why _me_, Kurosaki?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?"

"Surely you've been attracted to people before," Ishida calmly points out. "Why would you finally choose me to pursue over anyone else? Especially when I've given you every reason to believe I hate you."

"The only person you're fooling with that bullshit is yourself," Ichigo scoffs as he rolls his eyes. He knows he is stalling but he doesn't care. "If you really hated me, you wouldn't have saved my life at the risk of your arms when that Menos attack forced me into overload."

"But I was only—"

"You wouldn't have followed me to Soul Society, no matter how badly you wanted to get back at Renji and Byakuya for kicking your ass when they ran off with Rukia."

"Kurosaki, that wasn't—"

"And you wouldn't have risked your life and your dad disowning you just to help rescue Inoue in Hueco Mundo if you couldn't stand the sight of me!" Ichigo is getting riled up now. He stands and faces Ishida as he gestures wildly with his arms. "You wouldn't have thrown yourself at me to help suppress the Hollow if you didn't care whether I died. And you sure as hell wouldn't have called my name like that when you thought I had."

At that, Ishida is stunned. His loose jaw hangs open as he ogles Ichigo as if he just grew a fresh pair of horns. Slowly, his mouth creaks shut and his face shutters. Ishida looks away from him and scowls at his fist knotted in the blanket. Ichigo worries that he said too much. You could only call someone out on their shit so far before they resented you for it.

"Maybe you're right," he murmurs, hiding his eyes behind the asymmetrical slant of his thick hair. "Maybe I don't hate you as much as I say I do. That still doesn't mean I want to be with you."

Stung, Ichigo is forced to acknowledge that statement. It's true he has no concrete proof that Ishida likes him back. Vague rumors and some inferences from behavior—conclusions he's not used to drawing because he usually doesn't think about that shit. He could have it all wrong. What if Ishida _does _just want an easy lay?

"Ishida, you—"

"I'm going to sleep now, Kurosaki. I suggest you do the same."

He watches Ishida burrow into his bed and curl up to face the wall without preamble.

The fight has left Ichigo. He has literally put everything he has into persuading the man but it isn't enough. There's nothing else he can think to say or do beyond what he already has. Plus, his entire crusade has come into question. Why _does_ he want to date Ishida? Ichigo knows how he feels but he doesn't understand why he likes Ishida, either. He can't put it into words.

Feeling like the world's biggest idiot, Ichigo sinks onto his own bed and stares vacantly at the floor.

* * *

The next morning Tatsuki wakes him with an impatient prod. He starts and blocks her advance out of sheer habit. Grinning fiendishly at her dumb prank, she shoves his legs over and sits beside him as he props himself up on elbows to watch her. Ichigo tosses a glance to Ishida's bed and sees it empty and neatly made.

"Ishida went with Orihime and Sado to the restaurant in town," Tatsuki answers before he thinks to ask. "What's going on with you two, anyway? I catch you getting hot-and-heavy in Keigo's van and then you two get into a screaming fight last night. Kind of weird, even for you, Ichigo."

Ichigo twitches at the _hot-and-heavy_ part, frowning reproachfully at her nosiness. He rubs a hand over his face and blinks sleep from his eyes before bothering to respond.

"None of your business."

"I mean, you two have been friends for, what? Two and a half years now and you're just now deciding to give it a go? Right before university, too." Ichigo scowls and looks away. He doesn't need Tatsuki to start in about how oblivious and random he is, too. "But I guess that's typical for you anyway. Ishida on the other hand—"

"What's typical?"

She gives him a long, assessing stare and then sighs. "Well, you have this tendency to not see things until a certain point, you know? Although you can also be the first person to think of something completely off-the-wall clever. Like backing Ishida into a corner using his own tricks and then daring him to make out with you."

At first he assumes she means he didn't notice his own attraction to Ishida, but the way she says it has him doubting that. Ichigo watches her purse her lips in mild worry, pondering something specific. Maybe all those taunts from Ishida about his lack of perception are finally having an effect because Ichigo finds he is picking up small cues more often. He skewers Tatsuki with a suspicious eye.

"What do you know?"

"Didn't he tell you?" she frustratingly answers with another question. Ichigo shakes his head in confusion and Tatsuki's mouth falls into a silent O. "Um. Maybe it's best if I don't—"

"What do you know, Tatsuki?" he repeats, voice a threatening rumble.

"'Hime made me promise not to say anything!"

"She'll get over it. Spill, Tatsuki."

"Ugh, okay," she groans, posture deflating because she knows how stubborn he can be. "Orihime told me once that Ishida accidentally admitted to something really embarrassing one night when they were studying together. The only reason she told me was because she needed advice! But…"

"Yeah?" Ichigo prods. He has a feeling this is too important to let go. Sitting up the rest of the way, Ichigo gives her his full attention. "What did he say to her?"

"She, uh. She said Ishida confessed that he has a crush on you." Tatsuki winces as the secret finally comes out. Her guilt is ignored in favor of dealing with the rush of feelings this news evokes. "That he has for a while. As in…pretty much since you guys started hanging out freshman year."

Ichigo takes a moment to integrate this. Then he crumples a fistful of covers as he growls, "That idiot!"

"So, anyway…I came up here to see if you wanted some breakfast. I'm the only one here right now and I didn't want to eat by myself."

"Sure."

He showers and changes quickly before rejoining her in the kitchen. They cook together and Ichigo pointedly does not dwell on the fact that Ishida is apparently a stone-cold liar. That he purposely led Ichigo to believe his affection is not reciprocated. And that Ishida is an emotionally-stunted human being with too many damned _walls_ for his own good. Instead, he focuses on chatting with Tatsuki and enjoying his vacation like he hasn't been able to yet. Because of Ishida.

Just as they start to build up a good rapport, Ishida walks into the cabin with Inoue and Chad. Ichigo halts mid-sentence and stares. No one speaks, no one moves for a handful of seconds and Ichigo instantly understands that he is the very last person to know about any of this. That his friends have been enduring the tension between him and Ishida for a while now. They were just too polite to mention it.

Ichigo considers being pissed. He half-wants to sulk for the rest of the damn vacation and for a while after they get back, too. That would teach them all to manipulate him like this! But he knows it wouldn't fix anything. Ishida would still be distant and falsely disdainful. His friends would still keep their mouths shut whenever the two of them turned sexual tension into verbal abuse. It's only a semester left until they're all probably going to disperse to different colleges and jobs but Ichigo doesn't want to spend his last few months with them like that. He _won't_.

"Hey, Uryuu," he calls in a poor imitation of his usual aggravated huff, "Thanks for sneaking out to breakfast without me this morning. Especially after I 'helped you out' last night."

Silence.

Worrying he has gone too far, Ichigo glances between Ishida and his stunned friends. Practically announcing that he and Ishida were not actually _arguing_ last night, as Tatsuki mentioned, may have been jumping the gun. He's still not even totally sure Ishida wants to be with him at all. Now he is turning a faint shade of rose and gaping at Ichigo instead of saying a word. For all he knows, suddenly using Ishida's given name was the final straw. Yet, he had to do _something_.

Ishida recovers after a long moment. He meets Ichigo's eyes and says, "With all that snoring, waking you would've been impossible anyway."

The tension evaporates and the statues of their friends resume motion. Tatsuki gives a quiet sigh and Inoue smiles at them. Chad blinks in unmistakable relief. Better than any of their reactions, though, is Ishida's. Once everyone moves on to go about their business, Ishida remains to flash him a small smile before smothering it and following the group. It isn't much, but compared with his final words to Ichigo last night, it's a _milestone_.


	3. Chapter 3

The afternoon plays out lazily and in efforts to obtain sunburns. Their entire group trades a bottle of sunscreen around, sets out blankets, and twists open bottles of water and soda as they lie out in the sun. Ichigo claims a spot beside Ishida—or Uryuu, as he has obstinately taken to calling him since this morning—and respects his space enough to leave about a handbreadth between their towels. He listens to his friends' casual chatter between bouts of sleepy silence and feels content.

After a while, their crowd disbands into swimmers, snackers, and Frisbee-throwers, leaving him and Uryuu to bake by themselves. But Uryuu is paler than the freaking moon and no amount of sun block can allow him to stay under the burning rays for long. Soon he retreats under a shady tree to read a paperback—a different one from their drive in, the freaking _bookworm_. Left alone now, Ichigo rolls over onto his stomach and considers meditation. He hasn't gotten in touch with Zangetsu in a while and he's supposed to be practicing controlling his reiatsu—on Rukia's insistence. So he shuts his eyes and takes deeper breaths as he turns inward.

The splashing, crunching, laughing sounds of the others fade out. Ichigo greets Zangetsu in his sideways world and they discuss the nature of his power in vague terms. He needs a better idea of how to monitor his own energy output in a personalized way because no matter how many times Rukia or Renji or even Ganju have tried to describe it, he has never been able to understand. Old Man Zangetsu can only give him a few tips but he appreciates it nonetheless.

Withdrawing from his inner metropolis, Ichigo takes what he has learned and attempts to apply it. He focuses on the pulse of his reiatsu in tune with his heartbeat, sensing it leaking out of the shell of his body from the spirit housed within. If his power is like a tap, he has the most finicky dial in the universe; it's all he can do to decrease the output marginally, much less dramatically.

Ichigo keeps at it for a while, not paying attention to the passage of time or the people around him. His only interest is in suppressing his reiatsu as much as possible and he thinks it might be working. Picturing it as a giant, unruly mess of cotton, he balls it up carefully until its edges are rounded and compact. Contained within the meager confines of his body and no further. Pressure and heat grow but not unbearably. Ichigo's exhales are slow and careful. The soft noises around him fill his ears and provide a simple soundtrack to his mental endeavors.

The perpetual tones of Chad's rock-solid energy solidify in his mind. Inoue's golden halo becomes clear and sharp. Tatsuki and Keigo's subtler souls flicker like candle flames. Their positions are pinpointed in relative space and Ichigo doesn't need to open his eyes or attune his ears to 'see' them exactly where they are. Sweeping his focus wider, he notices something which is icy cool and blazing hot at the same time. So subtle and reigned-in that it resembles a distant drop of blue light. It takes him a moment to realize it is Uryuu.

Fascinated by this novel discovery, Ichigo narrows his attention to a single target and analyzes it specifically. He has never felt Uryuu's reiatsu with such clarity. The boy has never been one to flaunt his power, so even if Ichigo wanted to he would have trouble detecting Uryuu. Without the background noise of his own energy to further conceal it, Uryuu's signature resolves for him now. Ichigo quickly decides he likes it. He wants to drag more of it out of Uryuu so he can feel it stronger.

"You're going to burn, Kurosaki."

The quiet words spoken from very close to him startle him out of his trance. If that hadn't done it, the sensation of Uryuu's hands spreading warm sunscreen over his back and shoulders would have. Slow and thorough, Uryuu drags his fingers slickly across his skin. Ichigo shivers at the pleasant press of them into his relaxed muscles. It doesn't occur to him how atypical this gesture is until the distraction of his actions is gone. Yet, he figures it must be easier to be nice to someone once they've had their mouth on your dick.

"Thanks," he says as he turns his head to grin up at Uryuu. "You can keep doing that if you want."

"You've gotten better at it."

"Huh?"

"Controlling your reiatsu."

"Oh. Yeah?" Ichigo rolls to prop himself on his side with an elbow. His eyes sweep over Uryuu's kneeling figure. From this angle and despite his thin white t-shirt, Ichigo is reminded of their activities last night. "You could tell?"

"It's hard to miss," Uryuu states with a tone that says he knows what Ichigo is thinking about, "Since you were flinging it at me like a net."

"What? I wasn't—"

"Precisely what do you think happens when you're trying to sense someone else's spirit, Kurosaki?"

"I don't know." Ichigo sits up properly to meet him on an equal level. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"Not exactly…"

"Yours feels really nice," he blurts before thinking. "I was trying to get a better sense of it."

Uryuu's eyes widen and his cheeks flush at the idea, making Ichigo smile at his embarrassment.

"It's not like you've never sensed it before."

"Yeah, but it's like…the difference between the smell of ice cream and an actual lick of it. And when the taste is really good you want more of it."

"Don't compare me to _ice cream_, Kurosaki," he complains without heat. In fact, the longer they talk about this, the more Uryuu fidgets. "I am not a summer treat."

Smirking at that, Ichigo agrees, "Not if I can help it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Uryuu," he keeps firm eye contact and deliberately uses his name now, "That I'm not looking for a summer fling anymore than you are. I want to enjoy you year-round."

Both of them blush a little at the mention of enjoying each other. Thoughts of their more intimate meetings swivel into his awareness and Ichigo doesn't bother hiding it from his face. How easy would it be to lean forward and kiss Uryuu right here? To sneak off behind that copse of trees and pin him against one of them? But Ichigo promised not to touch him unless requested. If only Uryuu would ask! He holds his breath as he awaits the reply.

Uryuu rolls his eyes and looks away for a while. Ichigo follows his gaze to see Inoue and Tatsuki splashing each other in the surf. Smiling at their fun, he thinks about joining them. Ichigo wonders if Uryuu would go if he asked.

"Yours is nice, too, Kurosaki."

"Hm?"

Turning to look at him, Ichigo is a little dumbstruck at the shyness he sees. Uryuu's eyes are on the ground between them. His index finger idly flicks a clump of sand aside. Something about the scene stimulates a memory.

"Your reiatsu," he clarifies, barely speaking above a whisper. "It's not uncomfortable, it's…pleasant."

He is half-listening, focused on dredging up this weird memory because it seems important somehow. Uryuu standing in front of him on the roof right after lunch at school. Everyone else had gone back to class but he had asked Ichigo to wait. He remembers thinking it was strange, Uryuu wanting to talk to him in private. Then taking so long to say what he wanted while Ichigo grew impatient. And it turned out to be some kind of conference he had barely heard of from Keigo. Ichigo had already turned Keigo's invitation down so he told Uryuu the same thing in a rush: he had to work for his dad that weekend. He recalls Uryuu's reaction to that rejection since he had gone stone-cold on the spot. Muttered something like 'fine' and pushed past Ichigo to leave. After that he was more aloof to Ichigo than ever.

"Uryuu…" he gets the boy's attention, mind spinning in epiphany. "When you asked me to that conference last semester, were you…_asking me out_?"

Eyes snap up to his and Uryuu's expression twists its way through too many things before going completely blank. Not for the first time, Ichigo resents his tendency to close off like this.

"O-of course not, Kurosaki!" Uryuu adjusts his glasses and subtly shifts to put distance between them. "I just didn't have anyone else to go with and—"

"You were, weren't you?"

"Like I said, I—"

"I'm sorry." Uryuu falls silent to glare at the towel. "I didn't realize. I was really distracted that day and I never imagined you would—"

"Why would you? It's not like I ever gave you any reason to."

"Ask me again. Ask me anything, Uryuu. I'll say yes."

"Of course you will," he sighs. The tension leaves his frame and Ichigo relaxes to match. "Why did I think it was strange? Of course Kurosaki Ichigo would randomly decide one day that he likes someone he's been around for years."

Ichigo huffs an uncertain laugh. He knows it doesn't make sense but nothing about his entire life makes sense. He's used to it by now.

"Hey, do me a favor, Uryuu?"

"What is it?"

"Call me 'Ichigo', already, will you?"

After a stunned pause, Uryuu quirks a teasing smile and says, "Weren't you listening? I just did."

* * *

The rest of the day goes almost too smoothly. With Uryuu speaking to him again, everyone seems to realize they've worked things out. They order pizza for dinner and take turns playing video games while shouting over each other. Even after a long day running around the beach they manage to find the energy to harass each other on games like Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat. It gets so crazy that Tatsuki and Keigo act out the player's moves in the background while Inoue and Mizuiro control the characters. Unfortunately for Keigo, Inoue is a pretty good player…and Mizuiro is a little vindictive.

By the time they head to sleep it is late and everyone is exhausted. Snoring sounds start sifting through the walls as their friends collapse into their beds. Ichigo is tired, too, but he is too wired to sleep; he keeps catching Uryuu's glances from across the room. They don't speak as they change into pajamas, pull back the covers, and crawl into bed. Tension creeps into Ichigo's neck and he stares up at the ceiling with subdued breaths. If Uryuu says anything right now, he wants to make sure he doesn't miss it. Yet, he is too nervous to look over at him. Unintentionally, he sends out a curious tendril of reiatsu to do what his eyes cannot. Uryuu's spirit is a steady pulse tucked deep inside so that Ichigo really has to concentrate and—

"Will you stop that?" Uryuu breathlessly snaps.

"What?"

"You _know _what."

"You can feel that?" Ichigo incredulously asks. He finally turns to look at Uryuu. "I was barely—"

"It's impossible to ignore. A tiger batting at me with its giant paw…"

At the tone of his voice, Ichigo sits up to peer more thoroughly. Uryuu's breaths come quick and shallow, mouth pursed in a tight line. It's hard to tell in the dark but he suspects a healthy blush on the boy's face, too. His hands grip tightly to the blanket as he swallows once and blinks twice. Ichigo knows those gestures because they have recently been seared into his brain. Squeezing his eyes shut, he consults his mental storage for comparison. The signs match.

"Is it turning you on?"

He expects vehement denial and possibly another silent treatment. Instead, Uryuu sighs. He hears indistinct shuffling and opens his eyes just in time to see Uryuu raising a leg to straddle Ichigo's thighs. Trying not to react the way he wants to—by flinging his arms around the boy and never letting go—Ichigo merely stares up at him in surprise. Uryuu plants his hands to either side of Ichigo's shoulders as he leans down to speak.

"Reiatsu is just energy. It doesn't have the power to incite arousal on its own," he murmurs as his dark eyes dart back and forth between Ichigo's. "It's the fact that you are so intrigued by me that you keep pushing it at me to garner information. _That_ is what's turning me on."

"Oh."

"Kiss me, Kurosaki." Granted with the permission he has wished for all day long, Ichigo's heart gives an eager series of extra beats. But he can't stop the frown that tugs at the corners of his mouth. Perceptive as always, Uryuu figures out why before Ichigo does, leaning down to ghost his lips over an ear as he whispers, "Kiss me, _Ichigo_."

Ichigo does, and with the pitiful moan of a man made to wait too long for his prize. One hand in his hair and the other on his lower back, he pulls Uryuu against him and makes a hot mess of their lips and tongues. There is no hesitation in Uryuu's movements this time. None of that desperation born of confusion and vulnerability, either. Uryuu is all heat and purpose and control. Ichigo is still happy to let him have it all if it means he gets to participate in the masterpiece that is Uryuu's desire for him.

He is just working up from a medium simmer to a nice rolling boil when Uryuu pulls away from him. Hands are dislodged as the boy gets off the bed and Ichigo wants to shout and plead at the same time.

"Wait."

"There." Uryuu nods once, businesslike despite his shallow panting. "Now will you stop pestering me so we can go to sleep?"

"But—"

"Goodnight, Ichigo."

"Ugh," he groans, letting his head fall to the pillow. Leave it to Uryuu to find the perfect balance between indulgence and being a total fucking tease. "'Night, Uryuu."

* * *

The last day of vacation starts with him approaching Uryuu and being brushed off for the sake of _studying_. Leave it to that guy to study on a break. So while he retreats to a quiet corner with a stack of books, Ichigo wanders around the house looking for something to do. Inoue, Chizuru, and Tatsuki are taking their time packing while they chat. He hangs with them until Inoue launches into an energetic monologue involving something she read about supernovas and wormholes. Chad and Mizuiro are playing chess so intensely that Ichigo doesn't think to interrupt them.

Finally, his stomach rumbles loud enough that he can't ignore it any longer. Striding into the kitchen, he runs into Keigo having a similar idea with few results. They quickly decide that the kitchen is effectively depleted; they'll have to go into town for lunch.

"Ichigo," Keigo somberly intones the minute they are alone for once all vacation. "You don't hate Ishida, do you?"

"Nope."

Just like that, the calm gravity Keigo learned from his time with Ikkaku goes out the window. He shrieks and pulls at his hair in frustration. Ichigo waits with arms crossed and resists the urge to smack the boy out of his hysterics. On some level, he understands that Keigo is jealous of Uryuu for taking Ichigo's attention. But it's so hard to remain passive in the face of such immaturity. He has bigger things to worry about.

"Why!? Why don't you hate him? What could you possibly see in that stuck-up, scary, geeky—"

"Enough, Keigo," he can't help growling. Ichigo is not a fan of people ragging on Uryuu. "Get over it already."

"Wait." Shrewdly narrowed eyes assess him. Keigo scowls and asks with deadly foreboding, "Do you…_like _him?"

"No."

"Ah, thank the gods! I thought—"

"I'm pretty sure I might love him."

Grimacing in annoyance, Ichigo plugs his ears against the wail that elicits. He can tell Keigo's tantrum is going to take a while so he leaves the room with a long-suffering sigh. Passing the living room on the way from the kitchen, Ichigo balks as he spots Uryuu perched on the couch, studying as he said he would. He takes a moment to wonder if Uryuu heard what they were talking about. Then he wonders why his heart starts ramming against his rib cage at the thought. It was a very impulsive, if mostly true, thing to say to a friend when he hasn't told Uryuu yet. When he is still unsure himself.

Uryuu doesn't look up as Ichigo comes to sit beside him. He doesn't appear perturbed in the slightest but with Uryuu that doesn't usually mean much. Ichigo considers just asking him outright but he can't quite bring himself to say it. Suddenly he's thinking about what it might feel like to hear Uryuu tell him something similar. Feeling his face heat and his heart speed yet further, Ichigo swallows and presses damp palms to the fabric of his shorts.

"Are you just going to sit there and _heave_ like a pregnant bear or do you want something?" Uryuu abruptly teases, flipping a page in his book. "I still have a lot of material to get through."

"Don't pretend you haven't read all of those already."

"It never hurts to review."

"I thought you had some kind of photographic memory or something."

"The term is 'eidetic', Kurosaki, and even I can't absorb a book in its entirety on the very first run through."

They realize it at the same time: Uryuu has reverted to his family name. Ichigo freezes as Uryuu blinks. Uryuu takes a breath to speak but Chizuru chooses that instant to walk in and order them into the van to go get lunch. The moment is broken but Ichigo dwells on it as they file through the door and pile into the vehicle with everyone else. Uryuu peers out the window from the seat in front of him, mirroring the uncomfortable expression Ichigo is wearing. It shouldn't matter what Uryuu calls him. Especially since they'd been bickering like usual and Uryuu probably fell into old habits more than anything. Yet, it was not a nice feeling.

They pull up at a nearby okonomiyaki restaurant. Everyone rushes eagerly inside and claims a table in the far corner. Soon their plates are full, conversations are running rampant, and other customers are glaring in their direction for the disturbance. Ichigo carves into his meal and eats without really tasting it. He's distracted by the fact that today is their last day of vacation; they have to return to Karakura tomorrow morning. Go back to school life and leave this seaside haven behind. Ichigo is determined not to lose what he has gained here, even if he's not sure he's gained anything at all.

Uryuu is still not talking to him—is actually avoiding so much as glancing at him.

This behavior continues as they finish their meal and return home. And all throughout the movie they watch once there. Also during the brief game of karaoke Keigo demands they play before bed. By the time he heads up to his room with Uryuu trailing behind, Ichigo is on the verge of…something. He wants to yell and question and pounce all at the same time. But Ichigo does none of these because he promised he would let this be on Uryuu's terms.

That's fine. Ichigo can deal with that. He just wishes Uryuu would _speak_ to him.

* * *

The long road trip home is spent reading manga borrowed from Mizuiro and stonily ignoring everyone. More like, pretending to read it while he broods. Although that's nothing new.

Since last night Uryuu has said two words to him: "excuse me" when he was blocking the bathroom door in order to pack his clothes. Ichigo still doesn't know what to do about any of it. Part of him imagines making a dramatic gesture in a heartfelt speech at a critical moment. Most of him decides he is speeched-out already and all of this is Uryuu's damn fault to begin with for being such a nerd about receiving Ichigo's feelings. So he settles for ignoring Uryuu right back until the guy stops acting like a mercurial _woman_. He has enough on his mind with college coming up without adding this, too. Ichigo can't be worrying about whether or not Uryuu will choose to thaw anytime soon.  
So why is he still thinking about it the next day at school?

Lunch goes as usual on the roof. It would be tense if Uryuu had bothered to join them. As it is, Chad, Inoue, and Tatsuki are taking turns glancing at him when they think he won't notice. They keep at it until Ichigo's eye begins to twitch. When Mizuiro starts doing it, too, he snaps.

"Will you guys knock it off already!?"

"What are you talking about, Ichigo?" oblivious Keigo splutters around his sandwich.

"We just don't understand," Inoue says in a small voice. "Sorry if we're making you uncomfortable."

"I thought you and Ishida had...come to an agreement," Tatsuki says.

"I thought I made it clear it's none of your business."

Standing, Ichigo grabs his stuff and stomps away. Shoves open the metal door with a resounding bang on the concrete wall. Jogs down the stairs to the landing. He doesn't hear Chad following behind until he speaks.

"Ichigo."

"_What_?"

"You should talk to him."

Pausing on the landing across from him, Chad's calm bass echoes in emphasis. Ichigo unballs his fists and shrugs tightly. He knows better than to take his temper out on Chad.

"What makes you think I haven't tried?"

"Try harder."

"Uryuu is just like that. Talking won't do any good even if I could get him to listen."

Chad's eyes widen upon hearing the boy's name uttered so easily from Ichigo's mouth for the second time in as many days. It reminds him how fast everything has happened. A week ago he and Uryuu were bitching at each other on the rare occasions that they would even bother speaking. Now they're calling each other by given names and sneaking looks that mean something completely different.

"If he won't listen, maybe you can make him see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demands, thinking he has nothing left to show Uryuu anyway. Nothing else to add that he hasn't already tried.

"I wonder if what Ishida fears is the same type of thing we all do," Chad explains in a rare bout of wordiness. "Maybe he thinks what you each want isn't compatible. Show him it is.

"What we want, huh?"

"What _do_ you want, Ichigo?"

"I want..." Ichigo considers and Chad patiently waits. He has been thinking about this a lot lately, whether he wants to or not, so Chad doesn't have to wait long. "I want to be with him. Not just physically. I want to spend more time with him. Get to know him even better. I want to share stuff and fight and laugh. Kick his ass when he's being a punk and comfort him when shit goes wrong. I just..._want_ him."

Ichigo looks up as he finishes the lame speech he said he wouldn't make. Chad is smiling.

"Then show him that."

Opening his mouth to ask how he's supposed to do that, Ichigo is cut off by the bell ending lunch. A few seconds later his friends file into the stairwell to return to class. Chad gives him a final encouraging look and follows them, leaving Ichigo to ponder alone. But he doesn't stand there long: a spark of insight spurs him into action. Running back to the classroom, he spots Uryuu in an influx of students moving from the hall into the classrooms.

"Uryuu!" he shouts over the noise to get his attention. Ichigo ignores the odd looks he catches from those who know of their enduring feud. "Hey, Uryuu, wait up."

To his relief, Uryuu does. Albeit with an apprehensive frown as Ichigo grabs his arm and leads him to a more secluded corner of the hall. It's not that he wants to keep this a secret, but he'd like to give Uryuu the option of privacy. For all he cares, Ichigo would cheerily announce to the entire school that he likes Uryuu. Somehow he doubts this would be appreciated.

"What is it, Ichigo?"

"Want to come to my place after school?" he asks, fighting off a grin at the sound of his name. "To study or whatever. Yuzu is making spaghetti tonight."

Uryuu's eyebrows raise and he stares for a few seconds longer than Ichigo would like.

"I—"

"Hey, you two," calls a teacher from one of the rooms. "Get to class."

"Yes, sensei," Uryuu placidly agrees.

Ichigo watches him walk away with an irritated frown. If it's not one thing, it's another. He's starting to think Uryuu will always have an escape route.

So Ichigo gets back at him by glaring at Uryuu's back for most of the rest of the day. At least he's too busy being annoyed to pay attention to his friends being nosy over this.

He is feeling defeated by the end of the day. Other than inviting Uryuu to do things together, he can't think of how to 'show him' this can work. Short of stalking the boy—which he knows from previous experience will not work—he's out of ideas. The final bell rings one last time and Ichigo sighs. Grabs his stuff and shuffles out of the building like everyone else. Ichigo arrives home and fends off his father as usual. Greets his sisters and treks upstairs to collapse into his desk chair. Pulls his textbooks back out and picks one at random to start reading.

Almost halfway through the chapter, he feels a whoosh of displaced air.

"I see you started without me."

Ichigo looks up to see Uryuu standing in the center of his room, glancing around. He has changed out of the school uniform in favor of casual clothes and carries a large messenger bag. When he has his fill of inspecting, Uryuu drops his bag to the bed and sits beside it. He looks at Ichigo with an expectant expression.

"I didn't think you…never mind."

"You've rearranged since the last time I was here."

"A year ago? Yeah, I've moved stuff around," he snorts, bitter about how infrequently they've been in each other's quiet places. "And I'll be moving it again soon."

"You mean when you go to university?"

"Yeah. Assuming I'm accepted anywhere."

"You will be."

It is said with natural confidence, as close to complimentary as Uryuu ever comes. Ichigo looks at him and wonders what he will do if they can't attend the same school. Wonders if Uryuu has thought about it, too. He watches the boy pull out a laptop and set it on the bed, twisting to sit cross-legged in front of it. His shoes are already placed neatly next to the bed post on the floor. Ichigo can't resist the urge to join him; he brings his texts and notebook with him. They do some shuffling to get situated and Uryuu plays music low and unobtrusive from his library. Some kind of melodic trance with heavy bass undertones.

"Do you mind?"

"No. I like it."

"Good."

"You want something to drink?"

"I'm fine."

"Just let me know."

"Mn."

Gentle taps of typed keys accompany the music as Uryuu digitizes his day's notes. The occasional shuffle of paper and _scritch_ of pencil join in. Ichigo feels warm in spite of a cool breeze from his open window. His earlier irritation is forgotten for the fact that Uryuu is here. And they have never really studied together, partly because it never really occurred to Ichigo before. Partly because he would've expected Uryuu to refuse anyway. But this is nice.

They study for about an hour, comfortable in the silence as they simply enjoy the company. Ichigo tends to study every day after school anyway, when he isn't battling Hollows or spending time with friends. This way they're hanging out and studying at the same time, though. He gets to be near Uryuu and even talk to him if he wants while they get things done. Excited at the notion, Ichigo wants to suggest they do this every day. Make it a habit, maybe even trade off going to each other's houses. But Ichigo frowns as he imagines Uryuu's unfavorable answer.

"What is it?" Uryuu jogs him out of his head to ask. Ichigo hadn't realized he was being scrutinized.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"I said it's nothing: forget it."

"Ichigo."

A happy little flutter easily displaces impending ire. Ichigo is beginning to think he has a thing for hearing his name in Uryuu's voice. He's totally okay with that.

"It's a dumb idea but I was thinking," Ichigo mutters while pretending to be immersed in his work, "That it might be cool to do this kind of thing more often."

"Studying in your bedroom?"

"Or anywhere. The library or a coffee shop. Your place, maybe."

When he doesn't respond for several tense seconds, Ichigo casually glances up to see why. Uryuu is looking at him with an odd expression, eyebrows furrowed slightly and mouth tilted in a confused curl. Ichigo asks a silent question.

"Did you really invite me over just to study?" Uryuu candidly queries in that flat tone he uses when he thinks he knows the answer.

"Y-yeah," Ichigo blushes. It's not like he hadn't imagined this possibly turning into something else but he was actually pretty sure it wasn't going to happen. Until he heard that question. "What'd you think—this was some kind of ploy to get you on my bed so we could, uh…"

"Wasn't it?"

"No! I just wanted to chill with you outside of school."

"So you don't want to make out?"

"Well, I—I didn't say that, but," Ichigo splutters, red as his favorite jacket. If he didn't know better, he would say Uryuu is messing with him. Humor isn't a common thing with him, though. Even now he is looking at Ichigo with a blank face, cat-eyes calm and assessing. "I mean I wouldn't say no to that, if it happened, but it wasn't my intention."

"Then what is your intention?"

Sighing, Ichigo thinks he is sick of Uryuu getting to ask all of the questions. They were having such a nice time coexisting in the same room for once without arguing or harboring tension between them. Why can't things be simple like that more often? He shuts his book and sets it aside as he turns to face Uryuu better.

"I already told you: I just wanted to hang out. Thought that it'd be good to try it for once, like normal people. Is that so odd?"

"Coming from you, yes."

"Fine, then forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea anyway."

Ichigo stands, intending to go downstairs for a drink if for no other reason than to take a break from this uncomfortable atmosphere. He gets as far as gripping the door handle.

"Wait." Ichigo glances over his shoulder to see Uryuu approaching. He sets a hand to Ichigo's arm to keep him from opening the door. Eyes find his and Uryuu takes a long breath before he speaks. "I didn't say I wasn't amenable to it, Ichigo. But you can't say that this doesn't sound like a _proposition_. 'Come to my place to study'? I've heard lines with less innuendo in erotic films."

Then Uryuu is retreating a few steps, flushed because he just admitted he watches porn. Ichigo takes pity on him and decides not to mention it—for now. Tucks that tidbit of information away for later instead.

"Yeah, all right. So I haven't exactly had the purest of intentions with you but that doesn't mean—"

"I know."

"I just thought if we spent some time together…"

"You're right." Falling silent, Ichigo stares. That's probably the first time Uryuu has _ever_conceded defeat to him in any sense of the term. Then his jaw drops outright because he adds, "I apologize."

"It's cool," he murmurs once he recovers. Something else occurs to him a second later. "Uryuu, if you thought I asked you here for _that_…why did you come?"

Now they're both blushing like a couple of idiots. Letting the question go unanswered, Ichigo pulls open the door to yell down the hall. He tells Yuzu that he's having a guest for dinner. Her puzzled confirmation drifts back to him beneath the curious questions Karin shouts from their room. Ichigo ignores them, figuring they'll find out at dinner, and locks the door when he closes it.

Uryuu is watching him from his reclaimed spot on the bed. Leaning back on both arms stretched out behind him. One leg drawn up and bent on the mattress, the other one dangles down with toes grazing the floor. A tingly memory of those toes curling a few days ago flits through his mind. Ichigo follows the line of that leg up to his canted hips and thinks about how much he wants to see the boy out of his clothes. Not just shirtless or with pants undone but completely naked, no more pesky barriers to Ichigo's view.

The short walk over is occupied by resisting the inclination to step right up to him and connect their mouths. Push Uryuu down against his comforter and—Ichigo perches on the edge of the bed and stares at the floor as he reigns it all in. He literally just told Uryuu this wasn't about all of that and now here he is wanting it so much he could scream. It doesn't help that it is continually becoming easier to sense Uryuu's reiatsu, like a pleasant personal scent amplified by going into someone's home. Only a much more significant and diverse feeling.

"Come to my place tomorrow, Ichigo."

It is said low and with a hint of breathlessness. Ichigo snaps his head up to catch the quirk of a smile before it disappears. There is a wealth of mystery in the depths of those blue eyes, all hidden meanings and half-promises. Ichigo's heart stutters with it.

"Okay."

"Ichi-nii!" They are startled from the moment when Yuzu knocks on the door. "I brought lemonade."

"And snacks," Karin adds as she tries the door. "Why is it locked?"

Rolling his eyes, Ichigo rises to let them in. Both girls lock onto Uryuu the instant they enter. He straightens, sitting much more modestly, and accepts the glass with a small seated bow and a word of thanks. Karin sets a plate of vegetables and fruits on the desk and flashes Ichigo a suspicious glance before standing beside Yuzu.

"Ishida-kun, isn't it?" Yuzu is saying.

"Yes, that's right."

"We've seen you around," Karin states, "But you haven't been here very much, have you?"

"Not more than a few times."

"Did Ichi-nii make you visit or something?"

"Karin," Ichigo rebukes.

"What? You've known each other for years and you're just now having him over for dinner. It's strange, that's all."

"Karin-chan is right," agrees Yuzu, nodding in emphasis. "And he just called you 'Ichigo'. I thought you only called each other by family name."

Shocked that they were eavesdropping, he hesitates to ask how much they heard. It must not have been anything too bad if they're acting normally, though. Instead, he transforms embarrassment into anger and starts to shoo them out of his bedroom.

"Go be nosy somewhere else. And stop listening through my door!"

"But Ichi-nii!"

"Enough, go on. You can quiz him during dinner but leave us alone until then."

"Ugh," Karin groans as she is herded through the door with her sister. "Watch out for Dad. Once Yuzu tells him you have a friend over, he's going to flip out."

"Like I don't know that," he cries and slams the door. "Damn meddling geezer."

Uryuu is sipping his drink and nibbling a baby carrot when Ichigo turns around. As if none of this fazes him. As if they weren't just kind of _flirting_.

"Your sisters are quite agreeable."

"Thanks."

"It must be frustrating, though, having everyone question your motives. I'm sure your friends at school are giving you trouble, too."

"_Our _friends," Ichigo obstinately grumbles as he sinks to the bed and lies on his back, hands behind his head and eyes closed. It's been a long day. "They weren't that bad. Just curious about where you and I stand."

"About that…have you thought about my original question: 'why me?'"

"Of course I've thought about it," he sighs. Ichigo lets his breathing even out into a slow, steady sort of thing as he forcibly relaxes. "I just don't know how to say it. You know I'm no good with talking about stuff like that."

"Try."

Chad's words earlier today echo Uryuu's. Why is it so hard to understand that Ichigo has limitations? Just because he has ridiculous fighting power doesn't mean that same concept applies to all aspects of his life. Extra reiatsu doesn't get magically converted into mental acuity. Briefly, Ichigo considers repeating what he told Chad earlier. He rejects that option because it would probably sound rehearsed. Not to mention fumbling and idiotic. Feeling foolish, he keeps his eyes shut to help block it out.

"We're a lot alike if you think about it—I know you hate the idea but it's true," Ichigo preempts his scoff of disapproval. "We know each other well enough to push each other's buttons more than we should but…also enough to connect better than most people ever do. Safe to say I would do almost anything for you. And you can deny it all you want but I think you'd do the same for me, too, if it came to that. Plus, I like being around you as long as you're not yelling at me."

Uryuu doesn't respond at first and Ichigo isn't surprised. His reasons are vague and a little generalized but they're all he has right now. Ichigo isn't the type to 'wax eloquent' about how Uryuu does this or says things like that and that's why he loves him. He doesn't need to pinpoint specific examples to recognize how he feels. Although he can understand why Uryuu wants those examples, tangible relics to hold up in times of doubt and inveterate fear. That reassurance is not something Ichigo knows how to give.

"Sufficient," he eventually says with a tone of finality.

Ichigo's eyes crack open at the firm spread of Uryuu's palm over the left side of his chest, over his heart. He swipes stylized bangs behind an ear and leans down to press warm lips to Ichigo's in a kiss so composed and sensual that it almost slows his pulse. Eyes slide closed as tongues slip out. Uryuu softly hums into it and his fingers drift down Ichigo's shirt to splay over his hip. Gripping there, he expresses his eagerness in the pressure of a squeeze. Ichigo moves arms from behind his neck to comb his fingers into that silky hair, shifting it free from its careful tuck.

A handful of minutes pass like this. Not a single thought is spared for the homework scattered to either side of them. His brain only has enough focus for the exquisite sensation of Uryuu against him. Ichigo doesn't even notice the sounds he's making until Uryuu pulls away to tell him to be quiet: they don't want his family to hear. Oddly enough, that statement breathed so casually against his mouth sends a jolt of something dizzying through Ichigo. It forces another groan from him and Uryuu shakes his head with a resigned little chortle that immediately makes Ichigo grin.

To his horror, Uryuu sits up and straightens his clothes.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because if we continue any longer I won't be able to."

Ichigo considers that through the haze of what sense he has managed to retain. Reluctantly, he agrees Uryuu has a point. The last thing either of them wants is to be barged in on by his sisters—or gods forbid his _father_—while doing that type of thing together. Not to mention dinner should be ready within an hour. Showing up to eat looking like they've just run a marathon…try explaining that to your family.

So he uses that time to think about what just happened and what it might mean. If nothing else, Uryuu is readily talking with him again, though most of it is questions. He'll count that as a win.

* * *

The first thing Goat-Chin does upon spotting Uryuu sitting at their dining table is gasp too dramatically. Then he scurries across the room to drag him from his seat and hug him too tightly.

"Hello there, Uryuu-kun!" the man yells, making Uryuu wince at the volume so close to his ear. "So good to see you spending time with my delinquent son. Teach him some good habits, will you?"

"Get your hands off him," Ichigo commands as he rips Uryuu from his claws and places himself between them. Shell-shocked, Uryuu allows this protective gesture. "And don't be so familiar with him. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Ah, but I just got so excited!" Isshin pouts, "Since you finally brought someone home. You're a late bloomer, Ichigo!"

Karin snickers from her comfortable sprawl in a chair as Ichigo flares fuchsia at the implication.

"W-what are you talking about, Idiot Goat-Chin!? This isn't _that_ so get those weird ideas out of your head!"

"Oh? So this isn't you introducing your boyfriend to your family?"

"B-boyfriend?" Yuzu gasps. "Ichi-nii, I thought Orihime-chan…"

"Don't jump to conclusions, damn it!"

"Then you're not dating this nice young man?" his father asks, frowning in disappointment.

Wait—disappointment? Shouldn't he be relieved? Modern times or not, don't most parents still secretly dread their kids being gay? Not that Ichigo cares what his dad thinks about his preferences—or anything about his life—but this is too strange. Feeling lost, Ichigo turns to glance at Uryuu. He is expecting discomfort, maybe even a little fear or anger. But his face is blank with a hint of sadness. He meets Ichigo's eyes and raises his brows as if to say, 'your call'. Ichigo's jaw almost drops.

"Uryuu, you…"

"Ah-ha! Only close friends and lovers use given names, Ichigo! How do you explain that?"

"I…"

Thoughts swarm like rabid bats around his head, tearing things up and making messes. Ichigo still wants to shout how much he likes Uryuu but this thing between them is still so tentative. Being hasty is the reason it's so fucked up right now and he doesn't want to make it even worse. Yet, Ichigo remembers the accusation Uryuu made that night he finally spoke his mind about everything. How it seemed like Ichigo wanted to keep him as a dirty little secret, too ashamed to tell anyone about it. On the other hand, he knows just how cautious Uryuu can be.

He can't speak for Uryuu if he still doesn't properly understand his feelings, but Ichigo can speak for himself.

"Well?" Isshin goads, "What is this person to you?"

"We're not dating." Silence fills the small space as everyone tenses. Ichigo looks at Uryuu's guarded expression. He lowers his voice and meets the boy's eyes as he adds, "But I'd like to."

He smiles as Uryuu's mouth parts in mild wonder. Neither of them was expecting Ichigo to come out now of all times but he doesn't regret it. Sooner rather than later is better.

"What do you have to say to that, Uryuu-kun?"

"I…"

"I'll warn you, my foolish kid is going to get you into a lot of trouble."

"Yes, I understand that—"

"He's rude and reckless and a pain in the ass!"

"I wholeheartedly agree. However—"

"Now look here you two," Ichigo gripes, narrowing his eyes at the insults.

"However," Uryuu firmly repeats with a warning glare in his direction. "I have already decided Ichigo's virtues outweigh his faults."

"Are you sure?" his father has the audacity to ask. "Because you don't know him like I do."

"Perhaps not. But I know him better than you think, Kurosaki-san." Uryuu takes a deliberate step around Ichigo to stand directly before the man as he speaks. "I've watched him in times of great hardship and I have seen how he always met it with strength and resolve. Ichigo follows his own path; he carves it right out of the obstacles before him. He selflessly protects those around him and he _never_ quits when it matters. That is why—" Here Uryuu turns back to look into Ichigo's stunned gaze as he says, "That is why I like you, Ichigo."

Why couldn't he have thought of something like that? Makes his lame speeches sound even lamer.

Uryuu gives him a private smile, telling him he knows what Ichigo is thinking. Yuzu sighs in a swoon while Karin cracks a smirk and Goat-Chin beams at them. Ichigo doesn't know what to say to that. He wants to do something girly like hold Uryuu's hand or kiss his cheek but the notion is so foreign to him that he can't manage it. Can't even picture himself doing it. Uryuu's smile widens like he's still reading Ichigo's mind. Then they are both disrupted because his dad and sisters are crowding around them for a spontaneous group hug.

"Such a cute couple," Isshin pronounces as he wipes at a tear. "My boy is finally a man!"

"Ichi-nii," Yuzu warbles, on the verge of a crying fit herself.

Even Karin is moved, "You take care of my brother, you hear?"

"Y-yes," Uryuu stammers, overtaken by their maudlin antics.

Ichigo shoves and the circle is disbanded. "What is wrong with all of you? Just because of this you're all in tears?"

"Masaki~! Our son has…our delinquent boy has finally…"

"Would you shut up and quit talking to a damn _poster_?" Ichigo grouses, plunking into a seat and serving himself noodles without further ado. "Crazy old goat! Just ignore them, Uryuu. Apparently they watch too many dramas these days."

When Uryuu sits beside him at the table, Ichigo glances over to see that he is still smiling.

* * *

Ichigo doesn't forget about Uryuu's invitation the next day after school. He doesn't bother going home first to change, though, since he isn't bothered wearing his uniform a little longer. So Uryuu waits for him at the gate and they walk to his apartment together.

He is too nervous to say much on the way. It was one thing having Uryuu at his place with his whole family in the house as supervision, even if they weren't actually in the same room as them. But being alone in an apartment is another thing. Ichigo is oscillating between the determination to just study and maybe chat versus wanting to try and 'put the moves' on Uryuu and continue what they couldn't yesterday. Only problem is he still can't read Uryuu well enough to know which he would prefer.

"You're doing it again, you know," a quiet comment brings him back to the present.

"Huh?"

"Reiatsu."

"Oh, sorry."

"If you're curious," Uryuu says without looking up as he pulls out his keys to unlock the door. "Just ask me. You don't have to try and read my spirit every time."

"Well, I…" Ichigo steps into the hall and toes off his shoes as he searches for the least awkward way of phrasing his thoughts. He follows Uryuu into the living room and drops his bag on the low table before he finally settles on a response. "Never mind."

"So frustrating."

"Wha—hey!" With a strong shove to both shoulders, Uryuu pushes him to the couch, frowning down at Ichigo. "Look, it was a stupid idea so I—whoa!"

Ichigo snaps his mouth shut because Uryuu is sliding into his lap, the pleasant weight of him instantly affecting his heart rate. Leaning back to give Uryuu more room, he stares up at the boy in confusion. Wasn't he just annoyed?

"You were wondering whether I invited you over to study or to fool around, right?"

"Um. Yeah."

"The answer is: both."

"Oh. Okay."

"You don't mind doing this first, do you?"

As he speaks, Uryuu swiftly unbuttons his shirt, tugs the hem out of his pants, and shrugs out of it to drape over the armrest. The sight of his naked torso in the full daylight streaming through thin curtains makes Ichigo's mouth water. He has seen it before but it makes a huge difference now that he has permission to look and appreciate. His skin is so fair that the slightest mark would stand out like a beacon, if he had any. Ichigo wants to make a few.

"N-no. Nope."

"Good."

A strong grasp holds his jaw as Uryuu leans down for a rough kiss. Apparently, he's not in the mood to take it slow. Ichigo can't complain, especially if it means he can finally get the full experience. Uryuu sweeps his tongue along the roof of his mouth and deftly destroys the squadron of buttons blocking Ichigo's body from his touch. Tilting forward to allow his shirt to be pushed over his shoulders, Ichigo groans as his lower lip is nibbled.

"You want it rough, Ichigo?" he breaks away to ask huskily. A handful of minutes in and Uryuu's eyes have already acquired the sultry gleam of well-fucked that he does so well. "I know how to bite without bruising."

"_God, yes_," Ichigo moans as this skill is demonstrated on his neck. "Whatever you want, Uryuu."

While his request is fulfilled, Ichigo's hands are not idle. They find the tapering planes of Uryuu's long back and follow a meandering path down to his waist, under his pants, and linger at the top of his smooth ass. He's impatient to get the boy naked but he doesn't want to set the pace or be the one in control today. Somewhere in the back of his mind Ichigo is still thinking about what Uryuu said in a moment of anger, those insinuations of him taking advantage. Uryuu is too important to allow such a perception to persist. Even if that means he has to follow someone else's lead for once.

Luckily, Uryuu is on the same wavelength and quickly stands to drop his slacks without prompting. Ichigo reaches for him but his wrist is snatched and tugged instead. He follows Uryuu down the short hall to his bedroom and silently cheers as his own pants are removed when they get there.

"Lie down."

He does as he is told and Uryuu resumes his sprawl above him, initiating another long kiss as their hands run over each other mostly unhindered. When he lowers hips to press into Ichigo's, molten light spins happy discs through him, raising the fine hairs on his arms and legs. A loud throaty noise erupts in its wake. Uryuu's quiet laughter ends the kiss. He looks down at Ichigo with a goofy smile which is swiftly mirrored.

"I love your laugh."

"Shut up and get naked, Ichigo," he weakly orders in spite of a persistent smirk. "Try to keep quiet, would you? I have neighbors."

"Then let's make them jealous with our really loud sex."

Ignoring the retort to that, he shimmies out of his boxers and loses his breath for a second as he watches Uryuu do the same. He uses the brief distraction to memorize him from head to toe as best as he can. If he had his way, Ichigo would take about a hundred pictures for later, preferably in various suggestive poses. Settling for ogling now, he shifts his knees invitingly apart and wraps arms around Uryuu as he slides in close. Unfettered access results in ten times the pleasure. They are reveling in more contact than their sensory capabilities can integrate, erections heavy and so very interested between them. Ichigo bites his own lip at the sound of Uryuu's soft moans.

More. He needs to hear more of that music. Forgetting himself because of it, Ichigo flips their positions and begins laving wet kisses across Uryuu's unguarded collar bone. He grips the boy's waist and rolls his hips in insistent waves that leave them both panting within seconds. The music plays surprised and ascending.

"Ichigo," he gasps after a particularly hard thrust. "Wait."

"What is it?" Ichigo tries to keep the panic from his voice but he probably doesn't manage it. He feels guilty for getting so lost in this that he took control on accident. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell no. Just…here. Use this."

Reaching up to dig under his pillow, Uryuu retrieves a small bottle that he presses into his slackened palm. He stares at it for a moment.

"Why do you have _mango-flavored_ lube, Uryuu?"

"Because your father has a strange sense of humor."

"Ugh." He grimaces at the thought of his dad giving lube to his boyfriend. "What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"I don't know but I'd thank him if I were you," Uryuu levelly advises. "He also gave me a pack of condoms and a pocket-size version of the Kama Sutra. Said he would've given them to you but he knew you'd just throw them away."

"The hell…?"

"He's not wrong, is he?"

"Can we stop talking about my hopeless moron of a parent right now, please?" cries Ichigo, lamenting the topic's unfortunate effect on his dick. "Unless you'd rather write a thank-you letter to him first."

Shamelessly smirking at his discomfort, Uryuu snatches the bottle back and squeezes out a healthy dollop. He pushes at Ichigo's shoulder until they are lying side-by-side on the narrow mattress. Lust-darkened blue eyes hold his as Uryuu reaches down to slick the gel over both of them. Ichigo's eyes roll shut on a groan as his erection is thankfully rekindled. After a while, his brain boots back up enough to gaze at Uryuu and lend his hand to the task, tightening their fists and snapping his hips up into them. They both moan at the sensation and meet in a wild kiss.

When the pleasure grows too great and their lungs start to scream, Ichigo pulls away, only to press his forehead against Uryuu's. He watches as his expression changes the closer he gets to climax, seeing Uryuu do the same with him. The concentrated pinch of his arched brows. White teeth pressing into a red lip. Lids fluttering over black-eclipsed eyes. Pink flush deepening on pale skin.

But Ichigo has to shut his eyes to all this beauty because they're rolling upward against his will. Back arcing in synchrony with Uryuu's as they gasp and moan and shout. Hands squeezing and hips pushing. They hit the crest together, scarcely clinging to reality via each other. He feels Uryuu's stilted exhales against his shoulder, sweat-slick skin shivering in erratic waves against his. Ichigo forces his eyes open because he needs to_see_. Looking lost in the best possible way, Uryuu blinks dazedly with unfocused eyes and takes gulps of air through an open mouth. It's so adorable that Ichigo must taste it. Uryuu readily returns the kiss with a muted whimper.

In the hazy moments that follow, both of them somehow fight the pull of sleep without mustering the energy to rise from their comfortable sprawl. Ichigo almost laughs at the fact that they're supposed to do homework at some point tonight. That thought leads him down a more somber road until even the soft puffs of Uryuu's breathing can't distract him from it.

"Uryuu, I was thinking…"

"Rarely a good thing." Ichigo's contemplative pause has him sobering and looking over after that little bit of snark. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

They both know exactly what he means. Why did it take Uryuu two years to approach Ichigo and ask him on a date? Even then it wasn't a very overt request. Plus, he gave up so easily. It makes Ichigo kind of angry at the situation now, thinking about how they could've been together this entire time if only one of them had the courage or the sense to _try_ sooner.

"So many stupid reasons," Uryuu sighs, draping a wrist over his forehead and closing his eyes. "I convinced myself you were straight. That you and Inoue-san would make a cute couple and I shouldn't get in the way. Or that my father may be right about avoiding Shinigami. At one point I believed you hated me as much as I claimed to hate you."

Ichigo won't invalidate his reasons with dismissal or criticism. He can't say he wouldn't have thought similar things if he had been crushing on Uryuu for that long. As it is, he barely had the tenacity to break past the various layers of miscommunication and appearances to make it this far. The only regret he has is that Uryuu had to go so long in that state of unrequited anxiety and Ichigo tells him as much. Uryuu's simple response of a wry smile sends a pang of sadness into his heart.

Snuggling against the boy, Ichigo kisses his neck and says, "Okay, first we need to apply to the same universities. Then we can talk about apartments. Urahara said he'll give me a discount on a type of paint he invented to help shield reiatsu, so—"

"Ichigo."

"Just hear me out, Uryuu. I know we're bound to drive each other a little nuts by spending so much time together at first but—"

"Ichigo," he interrupts again. This time he hears the amusement in Uryuu's voice and glances over to see his smile transformed into something light and content. "Let's just see how the rest of the semester goes before we make a ten-year plan, okay?"

"Nah. No need." Shaking his head, Ichigo sits up to look down at him. "You're not getting rid of me. I love you too much."

The way Uryuu's eyes widen as the smile slides right off his face scares Ichigo for a second. But he barely has time for a fleeting worry before Uryuu is dragging him down into a deep kiss that lasts long enough to thoroughly steal the breath from both of them. When they part, Uryuu blinks a few times too many, eyes a little glossier than usual. Ichigo can tell he's working up to saying something he probably never thought he'd say again after his grandfather passed. Yet, Ichigo hopes he's wanted to say it many times before. That he'll want to say it many times in the future.

"I-I love you, too."

* * *

The next day at lunch, Ichigo stands up in the middle of his meal to get everyone's attention.

"I have something to say and I don't want to hear any whining," he says with a glare in Keigo's direction. His friends look up attentively and wait for the revelation. "Uryuu and I are dating."

The silence doesn't last very long.

"Congratulations," a few of them say.

"About time," a couple others add.

Uryuu continues nibbling his sushi roll expressionlessly but Ichigo can tell he's happy. It's in the way his eyes gaze up instead of down and in the relaxed set of his shoulders. As he watches, the diminutive slant of Uryuu's unintentional smile is drawn from him. Ichigo grins before turning to Keigo, the only person yet to give some kind of feedback. He is frowning in thought and picking idly at a piece of lint on his slacks. Sighing, Ichigo sits back down and resigns himself to putting up with Keigo's bias for a few more months. Then something crazy happens.

"I guess we have room for one more…" Keigo grumbles to no one in particular.

"Huh?"

"The house we're all going to share in college," he clarifies, giving Ichigo a sullen look. "I guess we could add one more roommate to the arrangement."

Shocked for a long moment, Ichigo finally smiles widely and agrees, "Yeah."

When Uryuu starts arguing about how he doesn't want to share space with a bunch of messy idiots and Keigo fires back about not needing chronic eggheads bossing him around, Ichigo can't help laughing aloud. It's going to be a good year.

End.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I love reviews and will respond if you have questions or just want to discuss something. I hope you enjoyed the story!


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